The Bane
by Abstract Reality
Summary: At the end of the final battle, Link is dragged into the realm of demons. In order to return, he will need the help of a cunning foe. Will he return? Or will the darkness of his heart consume him? His bane...
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Welcome wanderers of the cyber-realm! I am Abstract Reality and I will be your host for the duration of this story! For those of you who are already familiar with this fanfiction, this story is taking a bit of a new direction! However, if you are a new reader there is nothing really to concern yourself with since the story is new to you regardless! But I hope that you enjoy your cyber pit-stop here! And without further delay, I present to you _The Bane_!

Disclaimers: I do not own Zelda, or Skyward Sword in particular. This story is of my own creation as are the new characters within it!

_The Bane_

The final battle that would define the past, present and future had ceased. Fate had sided with the hero of destiny; it was he who defended the surface from plunging into the gaping jaws of chaos. Demise, the Demon King was vanquished.

The realm of which the Demon King created for the final battle, once surging with electricity and power had vanished as if it had never existed. The charcoal clouds of the violent sky slowly shifted to ivory. Their wispy shapes no longer obscured the emerging azure from the dawning truth of victory. The liquid crystalline floor reflected the brightening sky with exactness, the border between above and below indistinguishable.

The Demon King, his robust figuring once exuding domination was battered, nearing collapse. He stood with what remaining power flowed through his veins, his massive shoulders hunched in stubborn defeat. The weight of his frame was supported only by his vicious blade., the spirit within still thirsting for blood. His darkened flesh was branded with deep strikes; strikes of the holy blade, scarlet life-force oozing from the wounds. His blazing locks were no longer reminiscent of the fire that burned in the fallen king's expression. His eyes were as black as cooled coals.

"Extraordinary…" Demise uttered with a low growl. "You are a paragon of your kind." His gaze was unmoved from the boy dressed in green; his conqueror. "You fight like no man, or demon I have ever known…"

The hero of legend, chosen by the goddess stood opposite the demonic being. Valor draped his visage like a cloak, his entire form one of vast courage. His forest shaded garb was decorated with wounds of great measure, crimson imprinted upon his fair skin. His blue eyes show through the sweat and triumph on his face; the triumph of his people, and the world. His blonde hair was furiously matted to his brow, his master sword clenched firmly in his hand.

"Accept your defeat." The boy spoke firmly, his tone that of a man. Fear no longer caused his voice to tremble.

"Dog of the goddess…" the Demon King spat with indignation "My hate…never perishes. It is born anew in a cycle with no end."

The hero, Link, pressed on.

"Our fight is over. You aren't strong enough…"

A pause grew between the foes.

Drawn out chuckles emerged from Demise's throat like the rumbling of the earth. Their piercing tones rippled the watery floor like a skipping stone. The unusual sound stretched into the farthest recesses of the realm.

"Foolish mortal, this is not the end."

Raising his evil bland in his giant hand, the Demon King punctured the mirror-like surface, shattering its serene façade like glass.

"As long as exist, I will drag you down into the cavernous abyss!"

The realm shook with tremendous quaking. The agony of splitting matter bombarded the hero's senses with deafening din, the shaking striking him at his core. The storming clouds were engulfed in a whirlwind, the strength forcing Link to his knees. Fighting against the ground, he used his free hand to steady himself against the thunderous tumult. Shocking hues of colors unimaginable flashed aggressively before the human's sights.

Demise released his weapon from duty, the dark metal evaporating into a sea of diamonds. The bruised ground beneath the Demon King's feet splintered like wood, the force too immense to withstand. The cracks tore in all directions, ripping apart without discretion. Their sharp, jagged edges expanded like the gnashing teeth of a carnivorous beast, its wrath fully exposed. Within its depths, an everlasting pit of shadow spilled forth in turbulent waves.

"Fi!" the boy called with all his voice, the trickling dark gliding towards him. The inky black fed upon the Demon King, the darkness clinging and climbing his legs like malicious vines. He made no attempt to resist. Instead, he allowed every extremity to be consumed like a virus. The human was unable to pull his vision from the nightmarish sight. The demon's laughter was lost among the crumbling, his expression one of deranged euphoria.

Link's body was jerked backwards, his capped head slamming against the foundations. The holy blade fell from his hand, landing far to his side. The metal's ringing only added to the cacophony.

"Fi!" Link cried again, panic growing within him. He was unable to focus his thoughts.

Shadows grappled the youth's strong legs, their toxic hold numbing every fiber of his limbs. With what remaining determination the boy could muster, he struggled with all his might to reach his weapon.

His guide.

The black crept from his legs to his torso, infecting the blonde with its powerful poison. It crushed his ribs with a vice hold, suffocating him.

"Fi…" Link choked with his last breath.

His heart pounded.

Black expanded over his cerulean irises.

"Master," came Fi's distant voice.

"Master…"

Unconsciousness was the hero's companion, his mind severed from the feeling in his form. Just as the chaos of the trembling earth had consumed his very being, silence worked to devour his every thought.

Nothingness.

Emptiness.

Link's mind was lost in a labyrinth of terror and memories. Fleeing from one would only force him into the arms of the other;. To face either terror or his memories would be a test against insanity.

Where was he?

Were all his efforts for naught?

Was he alive?

Had he left his friends, his loved once to a world doomed to destruction?

As silence threated to isolate Link from the truth of reality, voices floated to his ears. Steadily they grew in volume, louder and louder. What were they saying?

Who are they? Could they break him from the bonds of absence?

"…where do you think it came from?" questioned a voice. It was low, filled with curiosity.

"Where else? The surface…" replied another with high pitched impatience.

"I have never seen one up close before…" a third spoke up. It was voice raspy with disease. "It must have had a nasty transition. It isn't in good shape."

"But how?" inquired the deep tone.

The blonde became acutely aware of the pounding in his head; the throbbing pain in rhythm with his furiously beating heart. With every thump, feeling returned to his body. How long had he been oblivious of his condition?

His solitude?

"Look at its skin…" the deep voice purred with delight. "What a delicious source of light it must be…"

"Who said you get to pick what parts you want!" screeched the higher tone. "And I was the one who found it! I should have the first choice!"

"Its heart is what I want…" the raspy voice spoke, more to itself than the other two. "That is where the greatest source of light is."

"Where…" Link murmured, the word forcing the ramparts of his lips open.

"Look!" exclaimed the high pitched voice. "It's still alive!"

The youth was unable to move, his limbs as heavy as stones. They ached with a soreness he had never previously experienced. It invaded even into his bones.

"Fi…" he murmured with more difficulty.

"Let me check…" grunted the deeper voice. "You are always hearing things."

The hero felt a firm pressure move across his stiff neck, the jabbing less than gentle. It worked about the tendons, pressing deeply until what it was searching for was found. Just beneath the youth's jaw it held firm, his faint heartbeat tapping against the pressure.

"You're right!" the deep voice responded in disbelief.

"Fresh!" hissed the higher voice. It was practically giddy. "What luck!"

"I wonder how long it has been lying here…" rasped the other voice.

"Who cares! What matters is that we found it before anyone else…" the higher tone interjected.

The hero's eyelids fluttered open, at last able to witness the goings on of the mysterious voices. Silhouettes of dark creatures, their flesh like burnt embers barraged his sights. The largest of the three, undoubtedly the deeper voice was the closest to the youth. His muscles glistened beneath his flesh. The other two stood further away, though their leaning bodies were piqued with interest. They were male. His surroundings were more difficult to identify; they were completely unfamiliar to him.

The land was barren, dead trees rising from the floor like bony, dead fingers. They reached for the scarlet sky with greed, never able to attain their desires. Sharp mountains rose in the distance, their dagger-like tops scraping the sky where the trees could not reach. They left darkened clouds gliding overhead. The faint whisper of wind hissed like a serpent.

"It is awake…" the shortest stated. His spine was bent as if hung with a weight, its skin lacking the same luster as the larger. It was thoroughly worn with age, or sickness. However, his glowing eyes were shrewd.

"Look at its eyes!" Pointed out the last creature. He was as slim as a skeleton, his sharp ribs stretching his skin like a leather drum. His arms and legs were gangly, a crude weapon held with his long fingers. His expression was one of utmost cruelty. "What a strange shade…"

The pounding of the boy's head continued, bringing with it an added illness. Nausea worked its way to his parched mouth.

Link rolled to his side, releasing the contents of his stomach through painful gasps. The vomit escaped his system with strength of fire, singeing his throat. His frame contracted into a fetal position, his damaged arms clutching his abdomen as if a monster would erupt from the spot. Sweat trickled down his cheek.

"A very rough transition…" the oldest creature stated again, his irises scanning over the boy. The other two laughed boisterously in unison.

Link's vision was spinning rapidly, his surroundings a swirl of greys, browns, and crimson. He needed to get as far away from these creatures as he could. Somehow…

The hero shifted to push himself to his feet. The palms of his hands dug deep into the earth, his muscles screaming in torment. The strain was more than he could handle, causing his body to crumble into itself. His face contacted with rough dirt, the connection only described as wicked. It felt as if needles attacked wherever they could. His lips were forced open once more, though the heaving did little to relieve the discontent.

"Wh-where…"struggled the blonde. The laughter boomed in his ears.

"What a weak creature." The lanky being mocked, "It can't even stand."

"It is a wonder why Hylia would protect such scum." The muscular male taunted with disgust.

"Well we cannot just stand around." Pressed the elder, "Not unless we want someone else to come along and find it…"

"Mmm…" agreed the largest.

"Don't expect me to pick it up!" objected the taller shrilly. "That is your job."

"You are not the leader of me." Responded the muscular male with a beastly growl, "You are lucky you still have all of your limbs…"

"Keep in mind, your strength is no match for me!" retorted the skeletal figure.

"Quickly!" hissed the disease ridded one. "You are wasting time with your bickering."

The youth felt his body rise from the unsteady earth, hoisted as if he were nothing more than a bale of hay. He was flung unceremoniously across what felt to be a strong shoulder. He let out a groan of pain, his ribs enduring great pressure. His support snickered.

"You'll have more to worry about later, so enjoy what time you have left…"

The scent of salty flesh penetrated his lungs. They expanded as normally as possible. What place had he fallen to?

Where was Fi?

Fi…

As darkness took him into its bosom like an old friend, the human thought he heard the faint chuckle of a familiar voice.

"Welcome…sky-child." It hummed.

It drew him into unconsciousness.

Author's Note: So there you have it! The first installment of my first adventure story! I hope that this chapter has intrigued you enough to want to read more (even though it was on the shorter side…I do apologize)! I hope that I will have the determination to complete this story. But with school and work, updating may be difficult. But I will do what I can. Reviews definitely boost the morale of an author, so please let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is welcomed (though please be respectful) Have a lovely day!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Hello, and welcome to the second installment of _The Bane_! First I would like to say thank-you so much for all the wonderful, positive reviews I received for the first chapter! I was really surprised and flattered at what was said! Each review was great (I can't say that enough), just fantastic! I hope that the story unfolds to all of your expectations! I do not want to disappoint! But I won't say too much more –on with the chapter!

**Disclaimers:** As previously stated, I do not own The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, any of the characters therein. I do however love it very much!

**Extra:** Also, for updates and information concerning this story, please check on my profile page! It will be there where I post notes and alerts that I cannot just post as a note in the story (since it exactly allowed…) These may include wanting ideas or opinions on certain topics, individual shout-outs or on just when I expect to update, or even why it is taking me so long to update!

_The Bane_

Chapter Two

The dark creatures carried the youth for what seemed an eternity, the hero passing through wakefulness and sleep as seamlessly as the change from day to night. The visions he endured through both consciousness and slumber were nonsensical. He was perpetually locked within a cycle of dreaming.

The clear, pure sky of the hero's high home mingled with the rusty horizon of this new world. The thick trunked trees of the forest with their young green leaves shriveled to twigs of their former selves. The soft, moist soil of the ground was replaced with dirt lacking in nutrients. The soft grass was traded for the hard shoulder of his captor. The chirping of birds was gone. The shuffling of feet was the only tune in his ears. Reality was blurred by his imagination.

As the group progressed through the landscape, the creatures talked freely. Their conversation was focused intently on their plans for the delicious being from the surface; of light.

"We should peel the flesh from its bones…" mused the skeletal one. "In long, thin sections."

"Too messy." Replied the elder with a hacking cough, "It would waste such valuable blood…and what a shame that would be."

"It wouldn't be wasted!" retorted the other, excitement growing in his tone. "We would drink it from every wound!"

"He needs to be alive when we devour his light," added the burly being, his hold on Link's torso tight. "I want to see it disappear from its eyes."

"Not to mention having it watch!" Snickered the high pitched male. "That is part of the fun."

The blonde groaned deeply, the conversation ringing in his mind. His head swam with lightheadedness.

"Did you hear that?" inquired the deep voiced being. "You will have the pleasure of feeling your body ripped to shreds! What an honor!" The male creature shifted the boy unceremoniously on his shoulder. He wanted the youth's rips to crack like a bundle of sticks.

"Ahg!" the hero released through chapped lips.

Laughter boomed in Link's pointed ears, the harsh ridicule echoing within him. What could he do? To attempt an escape in his condition would only serve to weaken him further. He also lacked his Master Sword. Without the sacred blade, Link felt helpless.

Weak.

Where was Fi?

She couldn't have fallen far from where he had.

"You need not injure it further!" the elder snapped viciously. "If it is too broken, it will not survive the night."

The blonde's breathing was ragged. He did his best to remain awake. He needed to know of his captors' plans.

Courage was his only defense against the unknown. It was courage that pressed him on, like a wind at his back. It was with him in the darkest of places; the most terrifying of times. He had to hold courage as a lantern in the night.

"I don't see why we have to wait until then…" grumbled the skeletal being.

"You know exactly why." Rebuked the old creature, "And to discount it would be unwise."

"And what _is_ it anyway?" Inquired the skeletal one, ignoring the elder's stern warnings. "A surface dweller, yes, but what _kind_?"

"What do you mean?" interjected the muscular male. "It is obviously one of Hylia's filth."

"I didn't ask you!" Snarled the high pitched one. "And I know that!"

"It matters little what kind, male or female." replied the elder. "Hylia's people are all of the light. But I suspect it to be male."

The heavy steps ceased, the boy looking at the dried earth beneath him. Had they arrived at their final destination?

"Let me have a better look."

The blonde's face was jerked up in one swift sweep. Claw-like fingernails dug into his scalp with rancor, forcing the hero to wince outwardly. He involuntarily looked into the eyes of one of the creatures that refused to release him from their control.

Link's blue eyes widened, his irises taking in the hideous face before him. It was narrow, the constricted flesh concealing jagged cheekbones and hollow spaces below them. Its chin had formed a dramatic point, the nose following a similar fashion along with a slight mouth. It's hair fell in stringy sections across its forehead, nearly as dark as its skin. But the eyes…they burned like heated stones in their sockets.

Like Demise, the Demon King.

Demons.

Link had passed into the realm that birthed the very hate that threatened his world.

"Are you sure?" asked the skeletal demon, his opened mouth revealing an array of crooked teeth. Link kept his face stern. He didn't want his enemy playing upon his emotions in his declining state. He allowed his eyes to shift about him, absorb the scenery.

The sky, a stark puce when he first arrived was darkening quickly. The sun was a deep orange, a menacing orb that cast relentless light upon the parched land. The ferocious hills remained in the distance, their features softening with every step in the opposite direction. The bare bone trees were greater in number, their bent branches casting long shadows. These ancient trees were the only life that could remain in such a place; silent like corpses.

It was certainly a place of demons.

"Yes, I am sure!" replied the elder hotly. "And again, it matters little."

"Let go of it so we can get a move on!" urged the large demon. "I am sick of carrying it!"

The demon drew his face near, the foul breath washing over the hero's skin. He watched Link with a gluttonous expression. The boy swallowed hard.

"Oh come on…" he hummed. "Just one little piece…I'll make it quick."

"No!" roared the elder, his raspy voice buzzing. "You will not!"

With the flick of his wrist, the lanky demon removed his hold from the boy's blonde hair. Link felt the cold metal of a crude sword caress the exposed flesh of his arm as his head returned to a hanging position. It was attached to the belt of the strong demon. He couldn't risk snatching it away…not yet.

"Fine." The tall one stated defiantly. "Ruin the fun. It sounds to me like you are scared…like those surface dwellers."

"Ignorant." Snorted the elder. "I am surprised you have lived as long as you have."

The group continued to move through the dead trees until the sky had become black like ink. No stars glistened above them, their guiding light blotted out. A sallow moon hung low over the land, threatening to crash to the surface. The demons shifted over the landscape like spirits. But they were not the only creatures cloaked in the dark.

They came to an encampment surrounded by withering trees. The grouping of vegetation circled the place like a ritual circle, the precise spacing between each individual tree bizarre. Link could no longer see the demons of which he traveled with, their figures only liquid-like shadows.

The youth was tossed to the ground, his form tumbling like rocks. He moved his arms to brace his fall, but the pain that shot through his limbs was excruciating. It was like an electric shock had surged through his muscles, stunning him. The hero grunted in frustration as he pushed against the dirt.

"Stay down!" the largest demon growled. Placing his foot upon the boy's back, the creature pushed him back to the earth. A little flame grew inside the hero's chest.

"What did I say about injuring it further!" the elder croaked again.

"What? I'm not hurting it…" he replied, nudging the blonde in the ribs. "Just making sure it knows who's in charge."

"And you think it's you?" spoke the tallest in a snide tone.

The hero could no longer wait until his fate was chosen by these heartless demons. He needed to act if he wished to return to the surface; his home.

The youth flung his arms towards the towering demon above him, his aching fingers encircling an ankle, his hands barely able to completely enclose about the joint. Biting his lower lip, fighting against the pain, Link used all the strength of his muscles to pull the demon off-balance.

"Ahhg!" cried the burly creature, his body hurtling to the ground. Voices screeched from the other two from unknown directions. The male's collision was like an earthquake. The boy wasted no time. He grasped in blindness for the merciless weapon at the demon's belt, his hand gliding along the blade. It came to rest at its hilt.

The seconds that followed flashed like a lightning strike.

The hero pulled the sword from its rest on the belt, flinging his arm away in one swooping motion. He staggered to his feet in the dark, his knees shaking. The demons were well camouflaged. The boy jerked his head from right to left, searching for the combatants. He took unstable steps backward.

Glowing eyes shown in the black, the surrounding sounds as nothing when compared to the raging hurt the hero tolerated. His heart thumped in his throat.

"You, filth!" bellowed the large demon. The sound was so strong that it shook Link's insides. The burning eyes of the strongest male glared at the boy as he rose to his feet. The remaining demons were out of sight.

Darting to his left, the blonde endeavored to claim freedom. He held the sword high, knowing that danger would strike at any moment. Facing the unknown was a source of greater hope than passively awaiting death.

His independence was short-lived, however.

A strong, bony arm encircled Link's shoulders like a metal beam. It drew him back abruptly, jutting bones stabbing his back. A cold edge was placed across his neck, the sharpness tangible.

"Make any moves, and I'll cut your throat." Hissed the demon; the lanky one. "It appears you are smarter than we originally believed…"

"Let me go!" growled the blonde against the strong grip. He made no sudden shifts, the metal pressing dangerously into his flesh. The other two came closer, their eyes brighter with the proximity.

"Oh, and it talks too!" responded the skeletal demon, sarcasm apparent in his tone. "What a find!"

"Drop the weapon, surface creature." commanded the oldest. He now stood to the boy's right. The largest was to his left. "Your body cannot handle the strain you have placed upon it."

"No." Link replied curtly. Though no one could see his expression, his lips were trembling. Had he wasted his chance?

The tall demon cackled. "What a stupid creature."

A hard blow was laid into the boy's stomach, his muscles contracting against the power. It was undoubtedly from the muscular demon. He slumped into his abductor's arm, the weapon hanging from his long fingers. His jaw was tight, damming the outcries that worked to spring from his mouth.

"Do as you are told, scum," growled the largest, his sights radiating brightest.

The sword slipped from the boys hands, clanking to the dirt with a soft thump. He shut his eyes tightly against the terrifying world. The owner of the sword snatched it from the dry earth, placing it once again in his belt.

"He needs to be tied," coughed the elder. "We cannot have him run off…"

The arm around his shoulders was replaced with a grip around his fragile neck. It squeezed gradually, pulling him from the skeletal demon to the face of the deep voiced male. His feet skimmed the ground beneath his feet. Link refused to open his eyes.

"I look forward to hearing your screams, surface-dweller," sniggered the creature. "It will be music to my ears."

The silence of night was Link's companion as he sat tied tone of the trees in the circle. His arms were bound above his head, his wrists straining against the tight bonds. His torso was wrapped by the rope like a snake, encircling his injured ribs. The youth could feel the sting of the cuts in his flesh. If left unattended, it was likely they would fester. He sat on the ground with his legs flung forward. His weak head hung solemnly.

His captors sat close together in the center of the clearing, their voices hushed in the dark. It was as if they desired to keep their words concealed from unknown entity. It was obvious that they cared little if their victim were to overhear them. In the eerie night, beasts waited for their opportunity to pounce.

The demons hadn't lit a fire, though their eyes were more than fit to cut through the black than surface dwellers.

Why, wondered the youth.

However, the hero was more concerned with other matters. It filled his thoughts with self-doubt. This couldn't possibly be the end.

This couldn't be the death that was preordained for him.

The Hero of the Goddess.

He struggled lamely against his tied wrists, the rope searing into his skin with every inch he moved. He sighed deeply. The branches shuddered.

A strange aura seeped into the area.

Strangely familiar.

"My my, look what we have here…" came a voice. It was as soft as the chilling breeze.

Link lifted his head, his ears tuning to the sound.

"Who is there?" he asked. His voice was just above a whisper.

"Oh come now," it responded, the condescension in its tone recognizable. "We haven't seen each other for only a day, and you have forgotten! What a short memory you have…little sky-child."

The hair on the boy's neck stood on end. His skin prickled. It was the same feeling that enveloped him when he first met the Demon Lord; Ghirahim.

The blonde didn't speak.

"I can see from your silence that you finally remember…" spoke the Demon Lord in the boy's ear. He crouched near the hero, his breath trickled over the hero's skin like precious water. Too close for comfort. "Such a pleasure to see that I spark such a reaction in you…"

"Get away from me!" blurted Link, flinging his head away from the intimate action. His hair fell across his eyes chaotically.

"No need to shout." Ghirahim scolded, his blanketed figure rising to full height. He stepped gracefully over the boy's hammered legs to stand before him. "I wanted to have a private conversation with you. It would be so rude to invite your new acquaintances over…"

Link squinted through the shadow, watching his enemy's figure carefully. Ghirahim sparked great uneasiness in his mind.

Though the details of his form were difficult to witness, there was no mistaking the Demon Lord's figure. His frame was slender, his limbs shapely. He made great efforts to highlight his slim waist and broad shoulders; an ideal physique. His neck curved up from his shoulders, his hair glistening with what available light existed. The boy was glad at least that he could not see the Demon Lord in his entirety.

"What a pity to see a little bird with his wings broken…" mused Ghirahim. His eyes were likely scanning the boy's predicament. "The saddest part is that it was not by my hands that you ended up in such a way. But truthfully, I have a greater appreciation for my craft..."

"How did you find me?" Link interjected.

"Quite rude." Ghirahim replied shortly. "But to answer your very straightforward question: I have searched for the goddess for quite some time. And in that time we met on many occasions. I know your essence very well…"

The blonde didn't respond immediately. What was Ghirahim playing at?

"Not to mention that surface dwellers aren't common visitors to the realm." The demon added offhandedly, his hand running through his silvery locks.

"Then why find me?" the hero asked. "What do you want?"

The Demon Lord sighed emphatically. "We really need to improve your skills in conversation. You jump too quickly from one subject to the next! A quality dialogue is clearly lost on you. But as I was saying before, I know your essence well, and couldn't help but wonder where the goddess's hero had ended up. After all, it was a nasty end to your battle with my master."

The three demons took no notice of the verbal exchange.

"Where is he?" the boy asked out of pure curiosity. After all, he did not actually witness Demise's end.

"He has not ceased to exist, if that is what you wish to know." Ghirahim answered. "No, that couldn't be further from the truth. But I am becoming far too distracted. I have more important matters to discuss with you…"

"Like what?" Link asked tentatively. Nervousness veiled him.

The elegant demon circled the human, stepping gracefully over Link's legs like mere twigs. The boy saw Ghirahim's shadow draw nearer whilst remaining tall.

"I know very well that you are without your holy blade..."

The hero did not need to be reminded of Fi's absence. It was the center of his mangled mind.

The Demon Lord crouched beside the hero, placing a hand near the human's bound hands.

"But…" Ghirahim said in hushed tones. "I may be willing to assist locating your precious weapon…after all, who knows the sting of its blade better than I? Not to mention a world of which you have little experience."

Link shifted uncomfortably at the Demon Lord's invasion. Link could feel the demon's dark power as the heat of a crackling fire. Ghirahim clearly relished in his position of control and domination.

"Why would you help me?" the blonde uttered slowly. "I am your enemy."

Ghirahim's conniving fingers descended from their place, running down the youth's arm. It was as if the Demon Lord could feel the flow of blood in Link's veins. After all, the demon relished in the act of bloodshed.

"Don't touch me!" the boy growled.

Ghirahim pulled back his hand, though his form retained the closeness.

"You act as if we are strangers!" the Demon Lord spoke, offended. "We know each other so well..."

"No we don't."

"Oh I think we do..." Ghirahim replied. "Our relationship has so many dimensions."

The boy glared.

"Well? Why would you help me?"

"One does not perform favors unless it is returned in full…"Ghirahim whispered, his wicked charm veiling his devious intentions. Link's brow furrowed in suspicion.

"I have nothing to give you." The boy responded immediately. He was destitute in the realm of demons. He could offer little in the way of items.

Ghirahim chuckled mysteriously.

"Believe me, sky-child…you possess greater value than you realize."

**Author's Note:** There you go! Chapter two! Sorry, cliffhanger! But I hope that worked for you! As I was writing it, my ideas on what I wanted to take place changed a little. But for the most part it stuck close to what I had planned. I did shorten it some so I could post it sooner. The remaining will be written in with the next chapter. I knew that if I waited to write more, it would have been at least another week or two of a wait…And of course, Ghirahim showed up, that little rascal. Always up to no good! But that is how I like him. It reminds me of making a deal with the devil. So please let me know what you think! I love your input, and am still grateful for all the reviews, alert adds and fave adds for the last chapter! I hope to post again soon! Ja mata!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! Welcome to the third installment of _The Bane_! Now I first want to say thank-you for all of the reviews! I have been posting thank-you's on my profile page and writing the names of the reviewers! But I have to say that I think that I have the best reviewers (or at least pretty darn close)! Each review is fabulous, and you all have such great viewpoints and in-depth comments! I love it! Also, I apologize for the slight delay. I have been battling some pretty nasty midterms…But I am glad that it is now March. It means that summer is getting closer. I also hope that my midterms didn't affect this chapter negatively…T_T

**Disclaimers: **I do not own The Legend of Zelda in any shape or form. It would be awesome if I did though…

**Extra:** (Again) my profile page is where I will make notes in between chapters, so if anything significant takes place between chapters, information will be found there!

_The Bane_

Chapter 3

"So…" Ghirahim began again. "What do you say? If I offer you my services, will you fulfill your end of the bargain?"

"What about getting me back to the surface?" Link asked.

"Ah yes," Ghirahim responded. "The surface. Well, that will depend greatly on how you feel when we get to that point, won't it?"

The hero paused, his heart thumping like a solo drum. His blue eyes were frozen upon the three demons who dwelled mere feet away in the dark even though an even more dangerous foe knelt close by. Once again, Ghirahim's hand was placed near the human's tight, callous bonds.

"I can free you right now…" he continued to whisper, "All that is required of you is to agree to my proposal."

It was true. Link knew that the demon could free him with as little effort as the blink of an eye. He had witnessed Ghirahim's power first hand on many occasions. But the prospect of remaining with his ruthless captors was as risky as relying on the Demon Lord's volatile temperament. If the youth were to accept the terms that the Demon Lord presented, it would be like holding a venomous serpent. It would only be a matter of time before the creature would strike out.

"What do those demons mean when they say "devour my light?" the hero questioned, the change in subject abrupt. It was partly out of curiosity that the boy asked the question. It was an unusual phrase with a likely enigmatic meaning. Link's inquiry would also bide him time before he would make his final decision. The transition wasn't unnoticed by the Demon Lord, however.

"All will be revealed in due course," Ghirahim replied. "That is, unless you decide that remaining here would be of greater benefit to you. Let us not change the subject…"

The hero exhaled as Ghirahim's slender fingers stroked the rough texture of the rope. The mutterings of his captors only background noise to his thoughts. The boy had no experience in the world of demons. His knowledge of their ways was even less. All he knew of this cruel place was what Ghirahim had allowed him to see; a small glimpse.

"No." the human stated. But while his lips spoke in defiance, the back of his mind wondered; wondered if rejection was the wisest choice.

"No?" reiterated the demon deliberately. He drew his pale face back with the flick of his neck. Ghirahim's eyes shuddered with danger.

"Would you care to explain, my little sky-child?" Ghirahim inquired, the thin veil of pleasantry unable to mask the wrath bubbling beneath.

The words froze in Link's mouth like a pool of water. His eyes were trapped within the mysticism of the Demon Lord's terrifying gaze.

Where had the hero's boldness gone?

The demon shifted his smooth face nearer to the youth's. Intimidation was a talent he possessed in abundance.

"I-" Link started feebly.

"Yes?" Ghirahim pressed as he breathed in the hero's scent like a beast on the hunt.

"I don't want your help." The boy finally replied. "I'm not like you."

A flicker of malice shot through the demon's expression.

Like a gust of wind, Ghirahim's shadowy form changed in an instant. With his long arm the demon seized the youth's fragile ankle. Wrapping his pernicious fingers around the joint, the Demon Lord employed a strong, painful hold upon it. He twisted it unnaturally.

The hero groaned. The action only added more to the collection of injuries that littered his body. Ghirahim smiled, his vibrant white teeth somehow visible within the dark.

"Such fighting words, for a trapped bird." The demon mocked. "But I must admit, witnessing your agony never ceases to thrill me."

The blonde heaved deeply. His stiffness only contributed to his sedentary state.

"But I expect nothing less from the 'hero of the goddess'…"

The demon released his hold on Link's ankle, instead opting for his bound wrists. Applying a not so delicate pressure on the rope, Ghirahim caused the course bond to cut more deeply into the youth's flesh. The blonde could feel a fresh sore form on the spot.

"I'll let you in on a little secret…" continued the Demon Lord. He spoke with his ghostly face only inches from the hero's face. Ghirahim's hot breath singed the youth's chapped skin. "We aren't so different, you and I; humans and demons."

Link turned his face away. His action was not only out of rebellion, but a disbelief of his enemy's words.

"In fact, I would say we share so much more than humans are willing to admit to…you and I in particular." Ghirahim grinned devilishly.

"We share nothing." Link interrupted, his whispers rising in volume. He could hardly stand Ghirahim's lies. And yet, he couldn't help himself from listening.

The demon's slender hand grabbed hold of the blonde's chin, roughly forcing the boy's attention to him once more. The demon relished in it. He loved watching the boy's eyes fight against him; it made inflicting pain all the more enjoyable.

A smirk played upon his lips.

"Your devotion to the goddess blinds you from the truth. But while your naivety is admirable, though even more pathetic…I cannot help but wonder how long you will remain _unscathed_."

Link felt his cheeks become hot at the demon's words. However, the hero couldn't help but surmise the depth and alternate meanings hidden within Ghirahim's speech. The Demon Lord was a master at weaving truth and falsehoods together.

Pain and pleasure.

"It will not be much longer before you are exposed to it: to what all creatures, demon and human alike ultimately crave."

"And what is that?" the boy asked, Ghirahim's deception like bait to unsuspecting prey.

And yet, the boy somehow already knew.

Knew of the temptations that crept at the back of everyone's mind.

"As I stated before," the demon murmured. "All in due course. I await that day, sky-child, with bated breath. That is, unless you are consumed by your savage captors. I can sense their anticipation…"

The hero's eyes narrowed as he gazed into the pale face of the Demon Lord. A binding power stretched between them. Their destinies were permanently intertwined. But Link refused to accept it; to accept the help of his foe.

"I shall bid you farewell," the demon murmured sensually. He leaned into hero's matted hair. "But do not forget, I will get what I want. I always do."

"Not from me." Link growled. "I won't let you have the satisfaction."

"Hold to courage while you can, little sky-child. It is only a matter of time before it departs from you…"

At once, the Demon Lord's presence vanished into the night like smoke. His meticulous hands, his misleading voice, his power was gone. But while he had left Link to his own devices, his essence clung to the boy. It left an invisible imprint. Their meeting would not be the last of their interactions.

The night drew on, the hours dripping slowly into the next. The boy continued to dwell in captivity. The feeling in his limbs had almost completely diminished. It was, in a way, a gracious gift that he no longer was aware of his wounds.

The three demons had fallen silent. Their silhouettes were nothing more than immobile rocks in the barren surroundings. But while all appeared serene, the atmosphere was heightened with foreboding.

Link exhaled, feeling unseen eyes perceive his every move. He also pondered the conundrum that Ghirahim had whispered hours prior.

It was obvious that the Demon Lord wanted to manipulate him; to twist and bend his will. But while he was initially unsuccessful, Ghirahim had sown a seed in the boy's mind. Link, while standing firm in his decision to fight alone, regretted his choice to disregard assistance. While the demon's help was not freely given, a guide through the foreign world was what the youth needed; to find Fi, and ultimately return to the surface realm. However, locating his companion was more than enough to think about.

"What am I going to do?" the youth spoke to no one but himself. He had never felt so alone in all his existence.

But as the boy sat, bound to the trunk of the tree, a shuffling met his pointed ears.

"Who's there?" Link queried the darkness, suspecting Ghirahim to respond.

The scuffling drew closer, a tall silhouette growing like a weed from the ground. The boy's breath was caught in his throat, his lungs straining to exhale. The towering form of the skeletal demon lunged at the hero, his sharp fingers snatching at the ropes around Link's wrists and torso. The bonds at his chest snapped violently, the wrist restraint proving more difficult to overcome.

"Wha –" the boy started, only to have his mouth covered immediately. The flesh was nearly as course as the rope used to bind him.

"Not a word out of you, or I'll cut your throat." Hissed the demon. His voice was deranged like the burning in his eyes.

His wrists fell apart as the tie was removed.

But while Link's arms were free, his body was flung to the dirt. His joints popped sporadically as he was aggressively turned onto his back. The grove of trees stretched high above him, the demon's expression alight with fervor.

"I will not wait to taste your light…" he growled ravenously.

The demon, removing a knife from his waist with one hand, grappled at one of Link's free arms. He positioned his body so the hero was firmly in place; so he could not escape. The youth watched in horror as his leather gauntlet was removed. It revealed the pale, smooth skin of his forearm. The demon's rusted blade penetrated the soft flesh, a vertical cut running down the length. It peeled apart as pulsing blood oozed from the cut.

Link cried out.

But the demon did not drink.

He stopped.

Waited.

A shrieking howl shook the trees down to their roots. It was followed by a choir of calls and screeching, their voices united. The two slumbering demons awoke with a start, their figures jumping to their feet as swiftly as they were capable.

"What have you done!" roared the elder. The skeletal demon was not allowed sufficient time to respond, however.

Thunderous rumblings sent violent shockwaves through the ground, their power increasing rapidly. Link looked around at his surroundings, wanting to understand the fear in the demon's eyes. At once, the grove of trees exploded with nightmarish din.

Creatures of outstanding size leaped through the trees, their mighty legs propelling them with great speed and agility. Though their bodies were draped in the dark of night, their forms were clearly defined. The creatures were animal-like in appearance, their bodies supported by four long legs. Tails and fur were absent from their bodies, but their obsidian flesh gleamed with smoothness. Their long mouths were open and snarling, their cruel teeth glazed with saliva as it dripped from their jowls. Their eyes were soulless and on fire. Their magnificence was matched only by the absolute trepidation they inspired.

Link listened and watched the symphony that was performed before him.

The elder demon was caught immediately within the front claws of one of the numerous creatures. Their true numbers were impossible to calculate within the chaos. His voice screamed in pure torture as his old bones splintered in the carnivorous creature's jaws, the dark blood draining from each puncture wound.

The largest demon fought with vigor against the onslaught of powerful swipes made at his midsection. His deep voice bellowed warnings as his large arm swung his brutal weapon at the creature that attacked him. He succeeded in scraping the flesh of its long snout. It shrieked, its shrill tone piercing the air.

The elder demon had become eternally silent, two creatures shredding his limbs apart in greed. The hero was in shock. His mind raced, telling him to run, to flee as far away as his body would take him. But he was truly mesmerized.

The skeletal demon turned back to the boy he had pinned in the dirt. His expression was a mixture of fear and anger. He pulled the blonde up by his injured arm. Link pulled against him.

The burly demon had long fallen victim to his attacker. He groaned as the monster dragged him away by his leg. He was taken beyond the grove, never to pass through those trees again.

"I will taste!" Cried the lanky demon, pressing his mouth to the boy's arm. Link felt the demon's tongue drag along his skin like sand. The demon dropped his knife.

The male's eyes closed dreamily, his façade transitioning into one of bliss. His bony hand loosened its grasp. The taste of the youth's blood was unlike anything he had ever felt.

But his joy was not to be.

The thumping of feet alerted Link to the coming of one of the monsters. It leaped at the pair, its body causing an impressive gust of wind to hurtle towards them. As if frozen in time, the boy watched helplessly as the creature's mouth enclose around the demon's body. Its jaw tightened around his torso, its teeth perforating the empty spaces between the demon's ribs.

Link fell backward.

The demon screamed, his sharp fingers trying desperately to pry the creature's chops apart. Hot, bubbling liquid burst from his body, splattering the hero's face and torn garments. The coppery smell overwhelmed the hero's senses. It was as if the liquid still pounded in time with the demon's furious heartbeat.

The male was flung aside, his limbs flailing uncontrollably. He crumbled onto the parched soil, his figure twitching.

The creature turned its attention to the youth; he was the source of its hunger. Its massive silhouette closed in above the boy.

It roared like Thunderhead, its rancid breath mingling with the perfume of blood; the aroma of death. Link's hands fumbled around him, grasping at the knife that was forgotten and no longer needed by its owner.

The creature's mouth sprang forward, its gnashing teeth awaiting Link's precious, crimson fluid.

Link's shaking left hand encircled the hilt of the knife.

He drew it up.

He thrust the blade.

The knife stabbed the monster inside its mouth, the blade penetrating all the way through the top of its muzzle. Saliva and blood trickled down the blonde's arm as the monster squealed.

The creature reeled back, its fuming outcries subdued by painful yelps. Its giant head was flung from side to side, attempting to dislodge the deeply embedded blade.

Adrenaline pumped through the hero's veins, giving him the strength he needed to rise to his feet. He wasted no time. Running towards the grove's barrier, he escaped through the open spaces. He knew not what direction he was headed, but that mattered little. He needed to run.

Only to run.

The sound of the tree's demise was the finale., their trunks crunching as they tumbled to the earth. The screeching chorus of the creatures echoed after Link as he traveled over the flat surface. He stumbled over his feet, adjusting to the renewed feeling in his muscles proving problematic. But he didn't care. All he needed to do was to run; to run head-on into the unknown. But the demon realm was not the only holder of the unknown.

The unknown also dwelled within himself.

**Author's Note:** Ta-dah! Chapter three is now completed. But as I have been saying, I hope that you enjoyed it! I am very glad that I was able to finish it without putting it off too much longer. But please leave me a review and tell me what you think! I am open to suggestions or constructive criticism. I usually do my best to fix those mistakes that I make (and I must say, there are many of them…) fairly quick. Also, I find it harder to write a character that doesn't ever say anything! I know we never see him talk, since it is from our perspective, but I have a hard time imagining him never speaking. But that is my opinion. Others have done well by keeping him silent. Anyone else feel that way? Anyhow, have a great day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Hello fan-fiction friends and here is the fourth installment of _The Bane_! And guess what? This story has reached 50 reviews! That is crazy amazing, and for three chapters too! Dang, all of you reviewers are awesome! It is all because of you guys. And I am a bit excited for this chapter, partly because I really like the idea. I don't know if I wrote it exactly how I had imagined, but I can always come back and fix it if need be! And a lot of reviewers have commented on how this is like 'travelling through hell,' and it really is. I find mythological/religious stories very interesting, and as time goes on you will probably see more of those instances. I only hope that I will not ruin anything…*hangs head*

**Alerts:** I don't own The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword or any of the other games as a matter of fact. But it is fan-fiction, the realm where no one owns anything. ^_~

_The Bane_

Chapter 4

The howling of beasts had faded into the dark, the wretched screams long gone. The only sounds the hero heard were the pounding of his feet against the dry earth and his haggard breathing. As the boy's legs took him in an unforeseeable direction, he could not help but see the gruesome demise of the demons that had captured him replay in his thoughts.

While the blonde had witnessed countless enemies fall by the blade of his sword, nothing had ever struck him with such pure violence and unadulterated slaughter. Mercy did not exist. The demons, while cruel and of the lowliest type, were ripped from life within an instant. Their bones splintered like wood, their skin and muscles offering little protection from the gnashing jaws of their assailants. Link could hardly imagine any soul deserving of such a death.

The world around him was nothing more than a blur of shadowy shapes and inanimate figures. The trees and their branches, the hunched rocks –all contributed to the inky dark. The landscape increased in rugged features. Large, hulking, pieces of rock protruded like trolls from the earth. However, as the youth ran farther and farther into the forsaken landscape, the adrenaline that had lent itself to him was wearing off.

His scratches stung with malicious intent, the aching of his joints and muscles threatening collapse. His infected wounds expanded in all directions, their virus-like power working slowly to break down the boy's body. It would start with the skin, and then eat away at the tissue beneath. It was truly miraculous that Link had evaded the call of death for so long.

Link's pace slowed to a walk, his steps becoming uneven and unbalanced. But he wobbled on, loose rocks and broken branches inhibiting his progress. This path was not unlike this trial in the hero's life course; it was a stumbling block as he moved through time.

The blonde could barely contemplate his next plan of action as his bodily pains returned with striking force.

What should he do?

Where should he go?

How?

The fantastical Demon Lord once again wandered into the boy's thoughts.

Ghirahim.

In the demon's signature fashion, he did not use brute force to convince Link that he required his assistance. His language was enigmatic, soft at times, explosive as well. Ghirahim wanted to wear the hero down; like a stone tossed and turned in turbulent waves. While at first the stone resisted change, it eventually was worked into a smooth, desired shape.

"No." the blonde reaffirmed vocally, his voice dry like the desert wind. But while it appeared that the hero was alone, it was to be counted on that the Demon Lord was not far away. It made resistance an even greater obstacle to overcome. But was refusing Ghirahim's offer leading the youth to greater tribulation? Or was accepting it the only reasonable choice?

Was it fate?

Stumbling over the debris, Link's worn body was unable to continue its journey. His arms flailed in the dark, searching for any kind of support. The hero latched onto one of the many trees in the area, his flesh colliding with the weathered bark. However, it was a welcome support as opposed to the arid soil. The trunk was thin, narrow enough for the boy to wrap his sore arms around its circumference. He held as tightly as he could. Hoisting his frame, the hero shifted himself as to lean against the sturdy, albeit rough, backing.

All around him, darkness and silence was a shroud. Not even the wind whispered. Link had placed his entire burden upon the tree, his back concave as it molded to trunk's shape. His head was a heavy weight upon his neck. His dirtied locks hung limply about his cheeks and forehead. His lungs begged for air as if he had been held underwater; gasping, groaning. It seemed that the breaking of dawn would never come.

He waited. He waited for a resolution.

The youth closed his bloodshot, blue eyes in exhaustion. But no matter what action he performed, darkness followed him. It followed him even behind his eyelids. For an unknown amount of time the boy repeated this process. Time felt as if it didn't pass.

But as the boy rested, a sound broke through the hush.

"Mmm…" hummed a melodious voice. Its tune was eerie, yet it rang with harmonious beauty.

Link lifted his head. He gazed through the black, his irises straining to view the source of the music.

"Mmm…" It sang again.

The melody wrapped around the boy, caressing his pointed ears in a melancholy sweetness. It spoke to his downtrodden hope. It consoled his broken spirit like a mother to her child. It beckoned him to come; to fear no more. But where was the music's source?

At last, Link's blue eyes fell upon a massive outcropping of earth. It had jutted out further than any of the surrounding counterparts. Its surface was a conglomerate of sediment, bonded together by storm and time. From it, a great opening was formed. Its inner cavity spilled forth shadow, as if from that place darkness had been birthed.

"Wh-who's there?" the boy asked.

From out of the cavern, a creature immerged. Tentatively, it peaked around the rocky edge of the opening like a frightened animal. It revealed little of its body, but its head was visible within the blackness. The eerie song remained at a steady volume.

Its skull was oval, no sign of indentations on its curved shape. The skin was smooth and luminescent; it appeared to glow faintly. Its facial features were small; the nose and mouth insignificant in comparison to its eyes. They were wide, vacant and glass-like as they took up the majority of the creature's face. It cocked its head innocently as it peered at the hero.

Link did not feel immediately threatened. However, his pounding heart reflected an opposite view.

"Who are you?" the youth inquired again, pushing himself away from the trunk. He felt pressed to approach the being, even if it was against his normal way of thinking. It was as if the song had tied a string to his ribs; tugging him wherever it desired.

It was a familiar feeling, but he disregarded it.

"Mmm…" it continued. The song was all Link could think of. It saturated his mind.

Turning its smooth head away from the blonde, the creature moved into its hole, taking the mysterious melody with it. The string tugged at Link's body. 'Follow,' it seemed to indicate. 'Follow me.'

"W-wait!" the hero called after the creature. "Come back!"

Stumbling forward, the youth pursued the secretive being. His injuries begged for attention, but the melody that filled him up was at command. It was the only thing that mattered to the blonde. All other cares were cast by the wayside. The music would reveal what he needed to know.

With a lack of grace, the boy made his way to the mouth of the cavern. He rested a hand gingerly against the callous surface of the opening. He stared into the hole, the humming floating gently from the depths. His heart was racing, the blood in his veins pulsing in vigorous reaction. It pleaded against entering the space. All experiences the hero had encountered on his journey previously pointed against pursuit. But like a spell, the music had the youth enraptured.

Link breathed in deeply.

He took a step; then another.

The hero made his mesmerized way into the cave.

The cavernous space was just as black as the night had been outside. The scent of moisture was thick and muggy; pervading the entirety of the cavity. The ground sloped downward, the path little trodden over. The boy used the wall to steady himself, following the beautiful melody in eagerness. Deeper he descended into the bowels of the earth.

"Hello?" Link called out again. The tune continued to waft up to him, his ears dining upon it. But the sound faded with each passing minute. The hero began to panic.

"Where are you!?" he cried desperately.

He quickened his stride, practically sliding down the unstable gradient. He continued to press his hand against the wall, its texture becoming strangely sticky. He pulled it away, rubbing the substance between his fingers. His heart pounded in his throat, telling him to turn back. But Link could not go without knowing the creature that could produce such an enthralling sound.

He seemed to walk for hours as the path curved and twisted downward. But still he followed. Finally reaching the belly of the cave, the blonde stopped. He faced the mysterious being that had captivated him.

It stood shyly; it's back facing the youth. It was tall and willowy, its skin faintly glowing as it had done before, hair nonexistent. The being appeared to have no gender, only long limbs without blemish. The walls and ceiling had expanded, the melodious humming enveloping the circular belly. Link let out soft breaths, not wanting to disturb the humming. But his excitement could not be contained.

"That song…" he began, "it's beautiful…"

The being ceased its music. It turned its smooth head as if to look over its shoulder.

"I have heard those words many times before…" it spoke, its voice as melodic as its humming.

"Who are you?" Link queried.

"An old creature, waiting endlessly for beauty to cross my path…and you are one who is very lost."

"But your voice…" the boy continued, shocked.

The bowels of the cavern groaned.

"It is not the kind beauty I desire…" it replied peculiarly. "It is not the special kind of beauty…"

It turned on its feet leisurely, the movement fluid. The glassy eyes revealed no emotion. Link swallowed hard. Its arms hung forward, revealing hands with abnormally long, sharp fingers.

"But you are lost…what is your name?" It inquired.

"My name is Link…" the boy responded without hesitation.

"Link…" it reiterated softly. The hero enjoyed how his name sounded when it spoke. "You are very special…"

"Wh-what is special?" Link stuttered. Apprehension was sluggishly returning.

"All creatures of the dark seek after the special beauty; a beauty that we ourselves seldom experience." It stepped forward. Link stood motionless. "A special kind of light…"

"Light?" Link whispered. The hero remembered the foul conversations of the now departed demons. They too spoke of light; spoke of its value and rarity.

"Yes," replied the being. "Its power is unlike anything in our world. While darkness is all consuming, we of the dark covet that beautiful light. Some use it for control; domination. Others use it to indulge in their deepest pleasures."

"Then, why live here?" the boy asked, shifting his weight backward. Fear nipped at the back of his thoughts.

"Because we love the shadow…it is our eternal home. But you are lost…" the being stated once more. "Fallen a long way."

Regret filled the boy's heart. He had made a grave mistake.

"But you are special…" reiterated the creature, its melodious voice no longer holding the same influence over the hero. "I can help you. I can help you escape this dark and dangerous world…and you can help me."

Link took a step back.

"I don't know what you mean." The hero replied, knowing full well that climbing the rocky slope to freedom was more than his battered body could stand. But his curiosity was peeked tremendously.

"But you are the special beauty I have been waiting for…" it hummed; the tone distressed "Waiting for so long…all alone…" It reached out towards the youth.

"Get away from me!" Link yelled defensively.

"Why don't you want to help me?" the creature asked morosely. It continued to approach the hero. "I can help you…"

"Stop!" the boy called out, his commands having no effect.

"I can free you…"

Turning rapidly, the hero attempted to brave the long climb up the path; perhaps his courage would bless him once more with escape.

"You cannot leave me!" sobbed the being in anguish. Raising its hands, the creature extended its long fingers. Two large sores were revealed on both palms. With the hands facing outward, a silvery substance shot from the sore-like spots. The stringy material attached itself to the youth's ankles, wrapping around them with a strong stickiness. Gracefully, the creature grabbed hold of the sticky rope, entwining its fingers around it. It jerked at the bond harshly.

Link, scrambling upwards tumbled against the slope, loose rocks cascading down the gradient with him. The creature pulled the boy towards it, its large eyes still lacking expression. The hero dug his hands into the ground, desperately fighting to pull himself away. The earth crumbled within his grasp, slipping helplessly through his fingers.

As the blonde was dragged backwards, the being's figure began to transform. Deep red sores like those on its hands grew on the sides of its torso. They expanded into prominent, puss-filled boils. From the tumors exploded long, spider-like limbs, their appearance as sharp as the being's vicious fingers. They developed quickly, pressing into the dirt until there were eight in all. Their length matched that of its arms and legs.

Hoisting Link from the ground, the creature raised him upside-down. The hero's green cap fluttered from his head as he struggled in vain with the bonds. The creature peered at the boy as it had always done; empty.

"Uhg, unh!" the hero grunted hopelessly "No!"

"So lost," The being hummed, "But found…"

With the four newly sprouted limbs, the creature spun the boy round and round. Like a top the boy spun. As its right hand held firmly the homemade rope, the other swathed the hero's body with fresh silver string.

Faster and faster Link was bound, his arms forcibly tied at his sides. He grunted against the wrappings, his vision a swirling kaleidoscope of black and glowing flesh. He was wound tight, every inch of his figure constricted as if by a giant fist.

Suddenly, the blonde was dropped to the earth. His neck and face remained uncovered. He was as stiff as a board as he lay on his back. The being, walking on all eight legs, crawled silkily over its capture prey. Its main body hovered several feet above him. Link watched as his petrified face reflected clearly in its eyes.

"You won't leave me, Link…" it cried pathetically, "You will help me, and I will help you." It leaned down.

Lifting its right hand, the creature waved its slender fingers over the boy. It did not touch him. Perhaps it was in disbelief at capturing such a treasure. It folded all of its fingers downward, all except its extremely sharp index finger. Directing its ministrations over Link's chest, the creature plunged its extremity into the youth's body; into his heart.

The hero's ears were pierced by his own agonizing screams. They reverberated off of the walls, threatening to burst his eardrums. Never before had such an otherworldly torment infiltrated him to his core. It burned him. It froze. With punishing power, the pain crushed his insides. It also worked to tear him apart. Hot, salty tears squeezed from the hero's fiercely shut eyes. The creature stayed still, continuing its work.

"You will soon be free…" the being murmured. It twisted its finger in the newly created puncture. It was searching for something.

Link began to convulse violently as his forehead dripped with sweat. His breathing was uncontrollable. His pupils dilated. From within his heart he felt a weight being drawn up, like water from a well. It was excruciatingly slow.

Visions washed over him.

He saw Skyloft; his home. The endless blue sky was decorated with wispy clouds, blue loftwings soaring overhead. The sweet smell of water was ever present. Familiar faces smiled at him, spoke of happy tidings and joy.

He saw Zelda's kind face. He witnessed her warm, caring expression. But jealousy seeped into his thoughts. He watched his friend as she withdrew from him. He watched her as she shared her kindness with others. He wanted to be her focus.

Anger followed. He saw his loftwing barred away, heard her distressed cries. Groose caused his anger to bubble beneath his quiet reserve.

Fear swelled as Zelda was pulled through the clouds.

Despair engulfed him at her loss.

Disgust and hate erupted forth for the one who took her away.

Shame in his failure hung about him.

Link could stand no more. Watching his worst memories as they were brought before him, they worked only to drive him into sorrow. He did not want to see. He wanted to be released into nonexistence; to feel nothing.

His vivid hallucinations pulled in and out of reality. The youth with his wet eyes saw the creature draw back from him, its spindly twitching madly. The appendage was removed from the boy's chest, ripping through skin and silvery bonds. The being bawled indistinguishable words. Why had it stopped?

A crimson cloak fluttered around the shoulders of a new assailant. It had the figure of a man as it stood before the whimpering creature. He possessed great authority and as well as malice.

"He is mine!" sobbed the being. "He has come to me!"

Without a spoken word, the newcomer summoned a pair of darkened blades from the air. He encircled his talented hands around the hilts, holding them lightly at his sides. Link shuddered horribly. He was barely aware of the goings on before him.

"I believe you are terribly mistaken. In fact, he belongs to me." A familiar musing voice spoke. "We mustn't take what isn't ours."

The creature swiped furiously at its foe, wailing like a tortured soul. The newcomer dodged the attacks effortlessly, stepping out of harm's way with elegant precision.

"No!" the being continued to weep. "He is my special one!" It lunged forward once more.

In one swift motion, the darkened blades sliced through flesh. The sound was as soft as a whisper. Two hands fell to the earth, completely severed at the wrists. Seconds passed before the creature came to the horrific realization.

It reeled backward, wailing and moaning as it shrunk into the darkness of its hole. The newcomer stood with his swords held high, dark liquid dripping from the merciless metal. Link continued to shake, overcome by delirium.

"As I stated before, we mustn't take what isn't ours. Or at least, what is mine." The newcomer stated.

As Link's dark savior turned to face him, all went black in his sight.

**Author's Note: **There you go! Chapter 4 of _The Bane_. I am sorry, I am the master of cliffhangers...But do you ever wonder if anyone really reads your author's notes? I don't like to make them too long, knowing that the majority of readers skip over them (I am guilty of doing so). But sometimes I can't help but want to ramble. But I have a thought! The soundtrack to the film _Pan's Labyrinth_ really fits this chapter. It has the right amount of intense moments as well as melodic (yet slightly creepy) songs. So if you are interested in what that sounds like, be sure to check it out! Also, are any of you inspired by music when you write? I know I am…it helps me get into whatever mood I am going for. I also really like Depeche Mode. But what artists/bands/musicians inspire you? Anyhow, please leave me a review! Constructive criticism is accepted, but only if it is done respectfully. Have a great day!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Welcome to the fifth installment of _The Bane_! We are already up to five chapters? That is completely nuts! And I must tell you, getting to this point has gone by quite fast. Normally it would take me about a month to write a new chapter (I don't know exactly why). But I have been posting about every two weeks! So if you are interested in knowing, check back about every two weeks for an update. I know that may seem long to others, but I find it to be a reasonable pace, what with school and work. ^_^ And again, your reviews were fantastic! I loved hearing about the kinds of music you listen to, as well as what inspires you. Perhaps I'll come up with a new question at the end for all of you to answer (if you want to, of course).

Alerts: Zelda is in no way owned by me. And it is probably better that I don't…I am not the best at managing things.

_The Bane_

Chapter 5

The youth could sense the ever increasing light beyond his eyelids. The all-consuming darkness the hero had come to recognize had departed. But while dull light sought to penetrate his sights, it could not breach the fog of befuddlement. What had happened?

Link perceived an expressionless face. Its vacant eyes drank in his visage, its limbs reaching desperately for him. Where had he met this being? A melody. A song of exquisite beauty had captured his thoughts as a fish with a net. It guided his eager senses down; down into the cavernous belly of the earth. But the mysterious tune was forgotten; like a dream lost through the veil of wakefulness. All that the boy could recall was that it was a melancholy sweetness.

But it was a lie; a trap. The creature, so enraptured in its loneliness wanted only to keep Link for itself. 'My special one' it wailed in misery. It spun a silvery web of hopelessness around the boy, his attempts at escape a failure. Why had he followed? Why, when his instincts pleaded for him to withdraw, did he press on? These and other jumbled thoughts circulated the blonde's mind. But, where was he now?

Had his mortal frame passed into a place he could not return? Was he nothing more than an idea?

An abstraction?

Illustrations materialized behind his lids, painted with hues of black and grey. He remembered pain; pain he had scarcely believed existed. The creature had plunged its sharp appendage into the boy's heart. It twisted inside him; a malevolent torrent of anger, jealousy, and fear. It was a maelstrom that worked to drag him beneath the intense waves of emotion. But at the moment Link wished only to give into despair, his fortune changed.

A splash of red swept across Link's visualizations, the shade waving starkly against the inky backdrop; like a cape. The creature shrank away from it as if it would burn. It's weeping echoed within the cave, a horrid despair. The crimson garment flickered like a flame as it twirled about the space. It draped the shoulders of a man, his movements a dance. He spoke with terrifying authority.

"We mustn't take what isn't ours…" he spoke, malice cloaked in politeness.

"What is mine."

The hero's blue eyes fluttered open, his parched lips gasping for air. His breaths stung as they expanded within his lungs. He felt the course ground beneath his back, his arms and legs tingling with numbness. He swallowed deeply.

The dismal sky drifted above him, the grey clouds obscuring the daylight. A blustering wind pushed them unwillingly overhead, their forms contorting to its will. The dead trees stood as saliently as they had before. They were undisturbed by the events around them, aside from their trembling branches.

He could feel the rough dirt beneath his body, the granules sticking to his sweat dotted skin. His legs were sprawled haphazardly; his arms open wide at his sides. Numbness no longer invaded his limbs; his movement would not be impeded. He could feel fresh blood pump through his veins, even into the minutest of extremities. He turned his head to his left, watching as he squeezed his hand into a fist; opening and closing his fingers.

Had what he imagined been a mere figment?

Drawing his left hand towards him, the youth allowed his fingers to explore the surface of his chest. He stroked his ribs, pressing his palm flatly against the bone. His touch brought no soreness, no striking pain from the place of which he had been abused. He drew right hand close. It followed its partner's actions, exploring his body for injuries that no longer existed. Scratches, cuts, and bruises had all been erased. Even the red markings around his wrists did not mar his skin. His garments, however were a mess.

"A dream…?" Link whispered in disbelief. Moving his arms to his sides, the hero pushed himself up. Sitting, he peered around him, wondering how he ended up in this particular place. It was rockier than the location of his first arrival. The ground of which he sat sloped slightly, boulders on both sides leading to a narrow canyon trail.

"I'm afraid not." A silky voice answered casually from above the blonde. The sound was all too familiar to the boy.

Link followed the words with his blue irises, scanning for the speaker; scanning for Ghirahim.

The demon made no issue of standing out against the barren backdrop. The youth found his enemy atop the tallest of the skeletal trees in the area. While the most massive, the tree appeared to lack the most life. Its dark bark was stripped from its form as if clawed over and over. The patches revealed a ghoulish shade of white beneath. The demon lay gracefully along the thickest branch; his long legs crossed delicately one over the other. His back leaned languidly against the trunk, his head cocked upwards. His crimson cape draped his shoulders stylishly.

A splash of red.

A wailing creature.

His pierced chest.

Link at once, grappled at his raiment with one hand. He pulled at his tunic top, forcing his hand beneath the jade fabric. He stroked the flesh of his chest; the flesh above his heart. A small indentation resided above the boy's organ. No larger than a pumpkin seed, the mark was like a crater on the surface. His pointer finger hesitantly circled about the mark as if afraid to touch it. Though it was miniscule, Link felt as if a weight had been placed upon the spot; but not an outside heaviness. It was inside of him.

"I was growing impatient; waiting for you to return to consciousness." Ghirahim spoke as he observed his right hand. "But it is so easy to forget how fragile humans are. And your kind constantly fights against what they know to be true."

The hero did not respond, his thoughts louder than Ghirahim's smooth voice. All that the hero had witnessed was genuine.

"So it was real…" the youth spoke to himself.

"Well, of course it was." The Demon Lord responded condescendingly. "You have caused me a lot of trouble. I am astounded at your foolishness, sky-child."

The hero looked harshly at the fantastical demon. But while his expression was one of contempt, he held back a reservoir of complex emotions. The brilliant flash of red he had witnessed before falling into darkness was Ghirahim. It was he who had ventured into the depths of the earth after him. It was he who prevented the clutches of the mysterious being from taking the blonde; stopped an otherwise gruesome death.

He was grateful, though he could not bring himself to admit it.

"I would expect gratitude for performing such a service." Ghirahim continued, glancing down at the hero from his perch. His eyes were smoldering. "But we both know very well that your etiquette is severely lacking."

At last, Link addressed his savior.

"What was that thing; that creature?" he asked as he pushed himself to his feet. He found that he was no longer fatigued as he had been during the night. It was as if his body had been cleansed of its infirmities. And yet, the burden that pressed on his heart was even more enigmatic.

"As the sky-child continues to disregard my efforts." The demon sighed emphatically. "Really, we must work on your manners. But regarding your question, it was a Nandu you so thoughtlessly followed into its den. It is one of the oldest demons in the realm."

With the snapping of his fingers, the Demon Lord vanished from his relaxed seat upon the tree. Link stood prepared for the demon to reappear, observing his surroundings with care. Ghirahim's figure materialized from an assemblage of diamonds several yards in front of the youth. His lean figure was much clearer to behold in the light of the day.

He was as extravagantly dressed as he had been when the hero first met him. White fabric clung to the demon's skin, diamond cut-outs revealing pale skin and lean muscle. His identifiable cape floated ethereally about him, highlighting his broad shoulders. His silvery locks were pristine, not one hair falling out of place. It cascaded over his left eye. The gem dangling from his ear twinkled, though failing to imitate the power Ghirahim held within his black eyes. A mischievous smirk affected his mouth.

"It uses it's sweet voice to ensnare weak passersby; luring them deeper and deeper into it's hole." He mused as he took a casual step forward. "The melody is unique for each one of its victims."

The demon continued to move closer. Link watched him warily.

"But I wonder… what melody did it use to draw you into it's arms?" the demon pondered. "I would have thought with your experience, you wouldn't fall prey to such an obvious trap."

The two stood a foot apart, Link staring up into Ghirahim's devious face. The demon towered above the youth, possessing the advantage in height. A roaring wind tumbled through the mountain pass, pushing against the demon's cloaked back. His lips spread into a white smile, his canine teeth visible.

The hero felt immense shame. He had known that the creature was dangerous. His logic had urged him to turn away from certain peril. But in his moment of weakness, he wandered the path below; like a lost child.

Ghirahim was there to know of his weakness.

"But I suppose I shouldn't be so harsh on you…" he murmured. Crossing his arms over his chest, the demon raised one of his gloved hands to his face, gently placing his fingers beneath his chin. "After all, you had received a merciless beating you were unable to prevent…"

A strange anger boiled in Link's chest. It spread from his heart as rapidly as a wildfire, filling his cool azure irises wither fervor. It seethed as it looked upon Ghirahim's façade. It was because of him, because of Demise that the world was destined to battle against destruction. The boy had the weight of his home thrust upon his shoulders because of them. But Link had accepted the Goddess's calling with courage and honor. While frustration existed, it never blinded him from his duty.

Or was it a wolf in sheep's clothing?

"That I was unable to prevent!?" the boy yelled, turning away. His arms trembled, his blood tingling beneath his skin. But the anger did not dissipate as quickly as the hero was used to. It overpowered his senses. Such anger was as foreign to him as the world in which he wandered.

The mass in his heart had amplified. It crushed against his ribs.

Link doubled over from the strain, his hands grasping at his life-organ. He struggled with great difficulty to breathe, perspiration trickling down his cheek. Though less than the pain he experienced at the hands of the Nandu, it twisted inside him similarly. What had the creature done to cause such horrendous torment? Why was it that the youth could not control the flare of his anger?

"The Nandu's venom is swift," commented the demon from behind. His empathy was a falsehood. "A creature of light such as yourself must be so new to such discomfort."

"Wh-why?" the hero managed to choke out.

"Why?" Ghirahim reiterated innocently. "The Nandu covets light above all else. As do all demons. Goodness is far removed here. It offers a power that few seldom experience, the most decadent flavor. The heart is the greatest source of light, as well darkness. The Nandu's venom purges the heart of its shadow, drawing it up from its deepest recesses."

Link listened, his heart aching.

"The Nandu desires its prey as pure as possible before it takes the light within itself; to have it forever."

'My special one,' it had called the boy. 'You cannot leave me,' it had said. Link began to piece the riddles of light together. The demons that had captured him wanted to absorb his power, to savor the rarity of his light. It also explained why his injuries had been healed; the Nandu wanted him free from damage.

"The prey is said to endure suffering unlike any they have experienced. But the Nandu removed itself from your chest before it had finished. The remaining venom inside you has left a portal within your heart; for your darkness to escape. It works now to overtake your light, to consume your soul in everlasting darkness. It will only be a matter of time before you are plunged into the abyss where all demons dwell."

The youth was frozen. At last the anger began to pull away, relieving him of its control. But at that very moment, darkness was assaulting not only his physical being, but his soul as well. He had fought the entirety of his adventure against the threat of evil. But it was to be his greatest battle to overcome the darkness within himself.

The blonde released the hold on his chest, straightening his back. He wiped the sweat from his brow, doing his best to calm his trembling hands. He looked towards the canyon opening. He inhaled the dusty air. A question came to his mind.

"If it wanted to kill me, why did you save me?" Link inquired, part of him not wanting to know the answer.

Ghirahim drew close to the youth, leaning over his shoulder. "You know, your screams were truly maddening, my sky-child. I could hardly contain my euphoria as I listened to them. They spoke volumes of the secrets you desired to keep hidden. Your anger, sadness, jealousy; all stimulated me as only you have done…"

"Answer me." Link stated sternly, turning around once more to face his enemy. "Why?"

Ghirahim's confident expression snapped. His dark eyes narrowed. Throwing his arm forward, the demon's fingers encircled the hero's throat. He squeezed tightly, dragging Link with immense speed towards one of the smaller trees. He slammed the boy against it, Link grunting at the force. He held the blonde there by his neck, nearly snapping his spine.

"Do not forget by whom it is you survived." The Demon Lord hissed. "As the Goddess's light belongs to my master, your light belongs to me. And while I relish in your torment, it will be by me, and only me that screams of such intensity will escape you."

The blonde's heart pounded rapidly, the grip around his throat slowly diminishing. He was struck with fear at the passion he provoked from the Demon Lord. Not even Demise, Ghirahim's master, regarded the youth with as much vehemence.

"But I must admit," the demon continued, his tone shifting once again to conversational. "It was providence that you happened to follow the Nandu."

"How?"

"Well," he began, moving the hand around the boy's throat. It drifted from his collar bone to the place above his heart. "You are now indebted to me. In return, you must agree to my previous offer…that is if you wish to escape the fate the Nandu has bestowed upon you." He traced it intently through the garment; remembering the unrestrained cries.

"I won't agree to anything." Link stated defiantly. Surprisingly, Ghirahim did not respond violently. The demon's change in mood was as difficult to read as an individual's thoughts. The Demon Lord leaned into the boy's side, speaking into his pointed ear.

"Come now," the Demon Lord scoffed. "Your honesty and good nature would never allow you to take something without giving equally in return."

It was true. Link's thoughtful nature never turned down someone in need. He had always performed acts of kindness with little regard for himself, especially when others had been so generous in assisting him. But Ghirahim was a different sort.

You may want to think over your answer before you decide."Ghirahim replied, his sights like coal. "What I seek may be the only way you will be able to escape this realm, freeing your soul from the shadow."

Escape? Freedom?

"Not to mention it would lead us to your holy blade…"

Fi. Link needed her more than ever.

"It would help me find Fi?"

"I just stated that fact, did I not?" the demon asked, pulling away to look straight into Link's eyes. "Not that her incessant observations will be of much assistance."

"What is it exactly you are looking for?" Link could not trust the Demon Lord to be completely forthcoming with such valuable information.

"My my, I don't recall ever hearing you speak so much at one time! It is a new experience for both of us, I am sure."

The demon removed his presence from the human's personal space. The mass in Link's heart throbbed.

"Well?"

"Only a few ancient relics that are of particular importance to me. But the details we may discuss later, as to improve your conversational abilities."

The boy pondered deeply. What Ghirahim was seeking could not simply be items with no material value. They must possess a great and terrible power for the Demon Lord to hunt for them. How could the hero accept the help of one so vicious if it led to catastrophe?

"What if I don't accept? What will happen to me?"

"If you decline, I will consume your light as your captors so longed to do." The demon stated flatly. "Only I will draw out every agonizing moment, pleasuring in each drop of blood that passes my lips. Such a pity however, considering the many other possibilities you offer."

The human did not reply. Could he so willingly bind his fate to that of his enemy? And what other possibilities did the hero's light offer?

Only time would tell.

"So, what is your decision?" Ghirahim inquired, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. "A chance to return to your beloved home in the sky, or wait until your light grows fainter and fainter until it finally goes out?"

Link cast his gaze to his feet.

There was no other option.

"I accept." The hero answered.

Author's Note: So there you go! I really didn't think this chapter would be as long as it turned out to, considering that there wasn't that much action (and I am self-conscious about this chapter for some reason). So please forgive! But at least it wasn't as bad of a cliffhanger, right? However, some things are clarified through none other than Ghirahim. Also, you learn a bit more of the Demon Lord's intentions. So it isn't completely lacking in information! In fact, there is quite a lot of dialogue (mostly from Ghirahim, but Link will speak more as time goes on). Also, for a random question (which I am sure you have had to answer in the past), what is your favorite Zelda game? Do you have a favorite character? Anyhow, please leave me a review. I love hearing from you! Let me know what you think, and constructive criticism is accepted (so long as it is given respectfully!) I don't always catch my grammatical mistakes, so don't be afraid to point them out (so I can fix them in a timely manner). Until next time, ja mata!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Hello everyone! It is time for the sixth installment! I just keep moving along! And thank-you for all of the reviews and all the hits for the last chapter! Regarding the question I asked last chapter, a lot of you put _Twilight Princess_ and _Skyward Sword_ as your favorite games. I love both of those games! They are fabulous. But I have a special place in my heart for _Ocarina of Time_. It started me on the Zelda-loving path! Also (besides Link, of course), Midna and Ghirahim were very popular characters! I totally agree. ^_^ But I have so many characters I like for different reasons! Impa from OOT (because you have to be pretty tough to be the sage of the Shadow Temple), Nabooru (one sassy chick!), and of course Saria…but I can go on and on! I'll try to contain myself…but anyhow, on with the chapter!

Alerts: I do not own Zelda. I own a lot of Zelda merchandise (even a little Hylian shield container of mints…)

_The Bane_

Chapter 6

The 'Hero of the Goddess' had bound himself to the Demon Lord, though unwillingly so. Through his denial, the boy had come to the realization that his unification with Ghirahim was of the utmost importance. Link was in a realm unknown by many and traversed by even less. Also, his loyal companion Fi; the spirit of the holy blade, was lost within the demonic landscape. But where had she fallen?

Why had she not come for him?

And yet the answer hung out of reach. Clarification had been left behind on the 'surface.' It was inaccessible at this time. However, a flurry of other riddles had been added to the blizzard of contemplation. What were the relics Ghirahim desired? How could they be used to assist in his goals? Why did the demon require Link's services? All were piled upon each other like drifts of snow. The sequence of events only further weaved the pairs' threads of destiny more tightly together.

The 'Thread of Fate.'

Wasting little time, the hero and demon entered through the mouth of the canyon; a scar upon the face of the earth. The powerful wind bellowed through the opening, roaring intimidations like a lion. However, the beastly wind could not deter the youth from his newly accepted objective. He needed Ghirahim. Also, the sooner Link's ambitions were achieved, the sooner he could return to his own realm.

And be released from the Demon Lord.

The sun-like orb had transition to its pinnacle overhead, its sweltering features concealed by haze. Its muted light plunged to the narrow trail of the canyon, its trueness lost amongst the crumbling sides of the fissure. These walls towered to remarkable heights, the sediment deposits creating defined stripes of time. The effect was claustrophobic. This natural architecture had endured what must have been millennia. The pathway was littered with broken rocks, their serrated edges waiting to slice through skin. Corpses of creatures covered the ground, their figures all varying in decay. Bones of the departed were also dispersed; the chasm had become their final resting place.

A tomb.

The boy stepped cautiously over the rocky terrain, doing his best to avoid the scattered remains of the dead. He observed them with apprehension. Though their skulls were as stones along the path, their hollow eyes observed the traveling pair. They were unable to disclose their concluding moments as the two passed along. The voices of the deceased were eternally sealed in secrecy.

Ghirahim strolled ahead of the hero, the surface causing the demon little difficulty. His feet tapped lightly, his crimson cape billowing behind him. He paid no heed to the remnants of bodies; of souls. To him, they were inconsequential. They numbered among the stars in the heavens, though their brightness had been blotted out by death.

Link did not speak his thoughts aloud. Life was precious. The youth could have never learned of its importance on Skyloft. It was only through departing the world he knew that such wisdom had been unfolded. By staring at his demise with courage, he had clashed against the ultimate departure. But while he felt immense sympathy for the dead, he sensed judgment within his weighted heart. It whispered. It was by their own devices that they had fallen away. They alone brought about their destruction.

The hero's heart prickled.

"I would have never supposed that skeletal remains would hold such a fascination for you, sky-child." Ghirahim spoke. He failed to look towards the boy, continuing forward.

The hero glowered at Ghirahim's back, not meriting the demon's comment with a response. However, the Demon Lord continued to speak. He derived abundant enjoyment from the sound of his own voice.

"You must be interested in the nature of their deaths?"

Link said not a word. But the youth could not hide his piqued curiosity on the subject.

"The canyon of Diados calls to many. All who pass through its winding path seek out the wisdom of Afentis." The demon shared. He dangled his words before the hero like bait.

Link stepped carefully over a jumbled pile of heads, their craniums littered with their own ravines. His pointed ears absorbed the conversation.

"But her insight is not so freely bestowed; as you can clearly see." Ghirahim gestured to the remains. "Most are unable to make it to her doorstep. They succumb to the antagonist of thirst; ravaged by desolation."

Link had long forgotten about his critical need for sustenance; for fuel. He sought only to survive the perils that crossed his way. The boy licked his chapped lips, imagining cool, refreshing water trickle over his mouth and down his parched throat. It would be a reminder of Skyloft and its wonderful simplicities.

"In truth," the demon continued to ponder. "My original thought was to force you into compliance by abandoning you in this wasteland. What a happy coincidence that destiny offered you to me in such a delicate predicament."

At last, the hero snatched at the demon's lure.

"I would have sooner chosen starvation."

Ghirahim smirked over his sloping shoulder. "As I would have expected. However, you would have found thirst to be very _persuasive_."

The pair continued to navigate the rugged way. The wind knocked pieces of earth from the chasm's side. The debris reverberated off of the canyon walls, bounding back and forth until the sound faded into obscurity. Contemplations similarly bumped about the youth's skull.

"So, who is Afentis?" The hero asked. "And why do you need her?"

"Why do _we_ need her?" Ghirahim corrected.

The human exhaled. "Fine. Why do _we_need her?"

"Are you always this cantankerous with everyone you meet? I am surprised that the goddess thinks so highly of you and your irritability."

"No." Link spoke tersely. "Just you."

"Mmm, I see." The Demon Lord chuckled, running a hand through his pale locks. "I suppose I shouldn't complain. I have seen your kindheartedness and it doesn't excite me in the same fashion. I much prefer this side of you."

The blonde growled under his breath. His heart tingled uncomfortably. While the demon enjoyed Link's moodiness, the boy wished instead that he was with Zelda; laughing without a single care.

"Well? Afentis? Who is she?"

"You are very direct," responded the Demon Lord. "An attractive attribute some might say…"

Link glared freely.

"She is the most powerful mystic in the entire realm," Resumed Ghirahim. "She resides here, in Diados – hidden from the world. While my talents are numerous, I do not possess the ability of extensive foresight."

"So, she knows where these relics you are looking for?"

"Among other things, yes."

If such knowledge is known to her, she must be privy to the whereabouts of the holy blade.

"If she is so powerful, why would she live here?"

The Demon Lord paused; a dangerous indicator.

"She used her power to betray her lord and king." Ghirahim's tone was dark and scornful. "She sold herself like the harlot. She brought about her own isolation."

"Demise…" the boy whispered.

"Her seclusion ensures that she will never practice her abilities of her own accord. She is a servant to the Demon King. And the filth who haplessly seek her will pass away in unworthiness. Each of their lives is as meaningless as the next."

Ghirahim's spiteful words rattled the blonde.

"Unlike you, I value life." Link replied harshly, the annoyance in his life-organ rising. Its weight was obvious.

"What a simple-minded accusation," chided the demon, his temper remaining consistent.

"Meaning?" replied the youth.

"The 'Hero of the Goddess' should know that the majority of souls are expendable." Ghirahim stated derisively, casting his hand into the air for emphasis.

"I don't share your opinion." Link contended vehemently.

The Demon Lord stopped. Casting his head to the side, the male observed the boy with piqued intrigue. Link staggered to a halt, his arms held parallel to his torso. The roaring wind rumbled overhead.

"And what, _dare_ I ask, is my opinion on the matter?" the demon queried. He turned around smoothly, his cloak's collar partially concealed is expression. "You must divulge your infinite wisdom…"

The hero held back his critical disputes. While mild mannered and seldom argumentative, Link could hardly contain his passionate abhorrence for the Demon Lord. Even Groose and his associates were unable to bring to the surface the worst in the boy's personality. The blonde, while dealing with the frustrations of the daily insults, refrained from quarreling. He did his best to brush it aside; to let his anger melt away.

However, the youth could not resist opening his mouth when in Ghirahim's presence.

"Returning to your characteristic silence, I see." The demon continued sardonically.

Link's jaw tightened, his blonde hair cascading over his irises. Why had his voice ceased in speaking?

With three short steps, the demon had once again invaded the human's personal space. He reached towards the hero with his gloved hand. Grasping the youth's bicep, Ghirahim jerked Link forward. In every miniscule way, the demon exerted his authority over the surface-dweller. He would show this petulant child why he was referred to as the 'Demon Lord.'

"Now is not the time to _bite_ your tongue, human." Ghirahim jeered. "For what purpose does it have if you refuse to _use_it? And believe me; I will remove it if it lacks function."

The words at last bubbled forth.

"You cut life down." The hero accused. "You feel no remorse. Anyone who gets in your way will know your contempt. Not even those who serve you are important. You delight in bloodshed and violence. Nothing else."

"How poetically you describe my disdain for life." The Demon Lord mocked. "For one so quiet, you astonishingly have a gift for words. While accuracies you have identified, you fail to mention one item…"

Link's arm had become numb beneath the other's grip.

"One must know the value of life in order to take it. Such advice you should take into consideration, sky-child."

"You're wrong." Link shot back.

"Am I?" Ghirahim deliberated. He leaned once more into the boy's face, his sights exploring the details. "Well, my little bird, if that is indeed correct, explain to me why you are still breathing? Why haven't I indulged in my pleasures of bloodshed and violence?"

The pressure on Link's upper arm lessened. Ghirahim's dark, intense eyes remained locked with the hero's. His commanding and deadly sight was magnetic. The blonde's lungs were filled slowly with the dry, earthy air of the canyon.

The boy could not fully answer the Demon Lord's query. Ghirahim was a powerful adversary; skilled in the art of dark magic as well as swordplay. The demon was as terrifying as he was magnificent; manipulating those around him with grandeur and lethal charm. His opportunities to destroy the 'Hero of the Goddess' were numerous. He could have left the human to the Nandu; let it consume his essence in its entirety. But that was not the case.

The Demon Lord had saved him. If Ghirahim's only desire was to pleasure in the glory of carnage, why had he not done so?

Why?

"Unable to conjure an answer?" the demon asked, the corners of his lips turning upwards. "I don't find that shocking. Your village's 'warrior ways' don't offer a broad perspective on such invaluable topics."

The blonde yanked his arm free from the demon's iron grip, his fists clenched tightly. Ghirahim's cloak fluttered in the wild wind.

"It's called 'Knighthood.'" The blond responded hotly, his weighted heart thumping. "A knight's purpose is to serve those in need."

Lifting a gentle hand, the demon made no effort to disguise a prolonged yawn.

"Honor, loyalty, kindness; all those attributes can cause one to feel incredibly lethargic. Not to mention exceedingly prosaic. All attributes of the faultless little goddess. What a devoted, blind follower you are!"

Ire built steadily with every slur. The new burden once again started to press on the boy's ribs.

"I'm not blind!" Link yelled.

The hero felt Ghirahim's palm press flatly across his chest, the fingers spreading dominantly over the surface. With a quick jolt, Link was shoved to the ground. His knees buckled beneath his bodily mass. His fall was cushioned by a bed of bones, crumbling to dust as he landed upon them. The Demon Lord crouched nearby, his painted face haunting.

"As I told you when you were bound by your captors: your devotion blinds you from the truth; from all you could experience. In your eyes and in your heart I already sense a transformation taking place." The demon whispered. His mouth curved sensually. "Whilst you are here, it would be wise to open yourself up to the liberation that only shadow brings."

"Your advice is useless." Link bit back. But the demon's observation terrified the hero.

Did Ghirahim know Link better than he knew himself?

"You may think so now. But in time, it will bring you to the full awareness of who you are…" The demon smiled wide, showing his white teeth. "Of your true nature."

Rising to his feet, the Demon Lord towered over the collapsed youth.

"Now get up. I grow weary of your sluggishness."

Author's Note: There you go! I am SO sorry if this chapter seemed like another transition (and short). I am battling against three finals (plus a paper), so I am getting very frazzled. Please forgive meeeee! Also, it seemed the perfect place to cut it off before the next chapter (which I am excited to get started on)! And again, lots of dialogue. So I REALLY hope it wasn't too boring for you! I'm always afraid that something will go wrong and everyone will hate the chapter! *ruffles hair* It's enough to drive a person mad! Ahhghablaaahh! XD But please let me know what your thoughts are! (And if there are errors, again, I am stretched in all directions, so I feel like I may have missed some...) Ahg, I am so worried about this chapter... Also, a new question! In Skyward Sword, what was your favorite temple/dungeon? Normally I really enjoy temples in the forest, but this time around I really loved the two temples of fire. Their design had so much Asian aesthetic that I was instantly hooked (especially the Fire Sanctuary with its East Indian flare)! Also, the Ancient Cistern was a favorite. I loved the duality of the place (and again, the Asian aesthetics). But what about you?


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Welcome welcome! We are now on the seventh installment of _The Bane!_ The further along it gets, the more amazed I become. I started this story at the end of January, and have this many chapters by May? For me, unthinkable! Normally I would have…three? ^_^ Also, thank-you for the great reviews (as usual, of course)! Each one of them means a great deal! And I love responding to them. I was wondering if it would be better to post my responses in the chapter, on my profile, or through a PM? I just want all of you to know that I am paying attention to what you say! Hmm…Also, a lot of you said that you enjoyed the Sandship as a dungeon. Very interesting! I agree that the way the boss battle utilized the larger area of the dungeon was very creative! ^_^ In Zelda you are used to having one giant boss room, so it was a new experience for me! But anyhow, here is chapter 7!

**Alerts:** As usual, Skyward Sword is not my property even though I like to think it is…also, while the direction of this story has changed some, that doesn't mean that Ghirahim will be any less of a creeper (at least nothing more than usual).

_The Bane_

Chapter 7

The hours passed like the clouds overhead – one floating into the next. Link and Ghirahim continued to wander along the path of Diados. It carved its way through ancient stone as a snake through tall grass, winding and curving in whatever direction it pleased. Fewer and fewer corpses littered the trail, signifying that few meandered deep within the earthen corridor. Twilight approached as a churning storm, its looming presence draped in rusty light. The foggy rays were weak as they attempted to reach the canyon floor. The coppery hue dripped down the walls of the gorge like fresh blood, oozing over the jagged rocks until it was lost in shadow below.

The Demon Lord's pace quickened as he leapt over clustered rocks and gaping holes. His long legs clothed in white were like strokes of a brush, dancing over a black canvas. The demon sensed his game like a hound; a hound that would not cease until its prize was found. Link performed his best in order to remain near the demon. But while he moved through the landscape with agility, his speed fell short. Whenever the youth drew near, the demon pushed further ahead; taunting him. Gritting his teeth, Link vowed not to show his demonic guide his mortal faults.

"Do your best to not push yourself too hard, sky-child," Ghirahim teased over his shoulder. "We wouldn't want to stress your condition, would we?"

The hero stifled his response. Instead of catching flame like dry, brittle leaves, his comments sank into his chest and heart. It was unusual – while the blonde felt no physical fatigue in regards to his life organ, every heartbeat elicited emotional strain. It was as if he was chasing sunlight as it sank into the western sky; outrunning nightfall. Link did not want to know what would become of him if he were to transcend that nocturnal barrier; become a member of darkness.

As the boy followed in hot pursuit, a branch-like limb stretched forth from the jumbled rubble. Its fingers trembling, the twiggy hand tangled itself between the hero's spry legs. It grappled weakly at whatever it could, causing the blonde to tumble forwards. Link protected his young face with extended arms, the front of his frame meeting the ground.

"I-I need…" the being croaked, its fingers tugging at the fabric of Link's pant-leg. "N-need…"

Kicking free from the creature, the hero scrambled away. Turning onto his back, he observed the being in its pathetic state.

It was on its side, limbs held close to the body. Its neck was twisted unnaturally, allowing its face to peer upwards. Its body, if it could still be classified as such, was drained of all nutrients; bare skin exposed to the elements. Its flesh was lusterless, peeling at various sores along its arms. The veins protruded beneath the thin layer of skin as they wound around the bone like rope. Its lips were thin strips of dead skin, revealing an array of decayed teeth. Its milky eyes bulged from the sockets.

"Y-you…" it continued to plead. "I n-need, y-our—"

"Light." Link replied solemnly. As with every other demon the youth had encountered, light was its primary desire.

"I need i-it!" it begged helplessly.

How long had it been lying here? It too sought the wisdom from Afentis, the mystic. What was so valuable that it would travel through the barren landscape, endure starvation and thirst; even die? Link himself had ventured into distant domains in search of his friend, Zelda. He braved all manner of danger to fulfill his duty to the goddess. He understood the risks he took. But while the blonde's cause was noble, he knew that this wretched creature's goals were not so pure.

And yet, pity swelled in his breast. Though this being was of the lowliest state, Link wanted to help him. But while the hero's selflessness was apparent, pride was not far removed. It nipped at the youth's heart. This being was of shadow. It, along with the others of its kind plagued the surface with a reign of destruction and evil. Their malevolence strangled the will of those who followed after virtue and goodness. It wasn't worthy of his compassion.

The weight of his heart increased.

Reaching for the boy, the creature attempted to pull its weight nearer the human. It heaved with dry breaths, haplessly groping the fallen rocks.

"L-light!" it cried. "Light!"

Before the creature's aims were met, the Demon Lord entered upon the scene. The hero supposed the demon had ventured much further on. But there he was, standing before the human and creature. He spoke.

"Well, well," Ghirahim began. "What do we have here – a bokoblin?"

"A bokoblin?" reiterated the boy in surprise. The being bore no resemblance to the foes he had fought in Faron Woods, or any location.

The bokoblin beheld the Demon Lord with admiration and fear. It was clear that it knew whose presence it now resided.

"I-I n-need—"it stuttered once more.

"Yes, yes," Ghirahim cut off. "You are in need of light…and yet, aren't we all?"

The demon's magnetic gaze glanced over to the youth, scanning his form. Link instantly jumped to his feet, brushing the debris from his green tunic. He cast his vision to his side, avoiding the other's prying eyes. The Demon Lord brought about a great uneasiness in the boy's mind.

"H-help m-me…" trembled the bokoblin's voice. Ghirahim cocked his head to one side.

In one smooth motion the demon lifted his foot, only to crush his heel into the defenseless being's skull. The connection resulted in a loud crack, the bokoblin's head involuntarily pushed into the dirt. It did not release a cry. Instead the being whimpered like a beaten animal unable to retaliate in its own defense. The new injury turned a shade of violet, the center black with internal bleeding. The demon's foot remained placed upon the spot.

"What are you doing!" Link interjected, his pure blue eyes observing the bokoblin in antipathy. "It's barely alive!"

The demon ignored the boy's abhorrence. Leaning down the length of his leg, Ghirahim peered into the creature's cloudy eyes. It shook violently in expectation of more brutality. The demon's lips spread into a devilish smile.

"You have come so far, only to fall terribly short." Ghirahim derided. "What was it you desired; so much so that you would seek out the hidden mystic?"

The bokoblin's mouth parted, though no words came from the opening.

"Revenge, perchance?" the demon mused. "Tsk, tsk. You should have known better than aim for such lofty goals. But I suppose one who is in your current station cannot help but lack in intellect."

The hero watched in silence. What Ghirahim was doing was wrong. Link knew the end result. And yet, he could not bring himself to stop the demon.

"But all is not in vain." The Demon Lord continued. "You will be removed from your physical anguish. You will reach Afentis' doorstep…"

The bokoblin's expression was of hope. Air cascaded over his lips as he attempted to express praise.

"You will prove useful to your Demon Lord." Ghirahim said.

Rising to his full height, the Demon Lord extended his right arm skyward. With his hand open and expectant, a signature swirl of diamonds materialized into his dark blade. Long and slender, Ghirahim encircled his fingers skillfully about the hilt of the weapon. Swinging the blade downward, the malicious metal sliced through the fragile skin of the bokoblin's neck. Piercing the jugular, blood exploded from the laceration. It drenched the pale skin of the hero, splattering his raiment. The creature convulsed severely, grisly guttural sounds emitting from its gaping mouth.

In moments the bokoblin fell still, a puddle of gore forming beneath the carcass. It was now one among a multitude of the deceased.

Drawing his sword from the dead bokoblin like a sheath, Ghirahim brought the dripping metal to his face. He moved the cold edge beneath his nose, inhaling the freshly spilt liquid. His chest rose and fell deliberately as if to absorb the sensations. His own outfit was splashed with liquid.

"How disappointing." The demon remarked. "But it is sufficient."

"You didn't need to do that." Link responded with his eyes fixed on his counterpart. "It was almost dead. What purpose was there in killing it?"

Ghirahim with sword still in hand, turned towards the hero.

"Do not tell me, my little bird that you felt a degree of pity for this worthless creature?"

Link paused, inwardly cringing at his newly acquired nickname of "little bird." Ghirahim observed him carefully.

"Yes. It didn't need to die through you."

"Once again, you place yourself on a righteous pedestal," the Demon Lord replied. Flicking his wrist, diamonds once again appeared. They enveloped the dark weapon, bringing it with them in their departure. "Tell me, while you reside on your perch in the sky; is the lowest creature of darkness worthy to bask in your glorious light?"

The youth moved his gaze to the deceased bokoblin. Had the demon read his prideful thoughts earlier? The Demon Lord knew full well of the hero's unselfishness and regard for others. But his inner self was changing. Pride was like a bitter taste. It left a horrid tang in the boy's mouth. Link had managed to push away the conceit he experienced prior to the creature's death, filling the space with empathy. But he still felt disgust at the lowly creature.

"But why ask the question when we both know the answer?" the demon pondered. "After all, you have slain so many in battle. You felt no pity for them."

"I fought because it was required of me." Link began to argue. However, the demon was quick to silence the boy's retort. In his swift manner, the Demon Lord raised his hand, smacking the hero hard across the face. The force was not strong enough to cause the youth to fall to the ground. However, he staggered on his feet. Using the cavern wall, Link stabilized himself with his right hand. His left cheek stung, his bottom lip threatening to swell. He touched the tender bruise with his free hand, heat radiating from the spot.

"But I forget your 'respect for life.'" Ghirahim jeered, standing before the hero. "Would you prefer to passively stand by than to take more aggressive action? Believe me, there is little difference."

"There is a difference." Link replied, his sights narrow.

"Why don't you prove your point to me?" the demon challenged. Leaning over Link, Ghirahim placed a hand precariously beside the youth's face. "Show me the dissimilarity. I know you are angry. Attack me with your festering rage."

Link's heart thumped wildly, a war drum on the horizon. 'Attack' is persuaded. But he could not.

He would not.

"I won't use violence to prove a point."

The corners of the Demon Lord's mouth turned downward in disappointment. With his free hand, he placed his fingers upon the blonde's swollen lip, blood pulsing beneath the tender wound.

"Your quarrelling words are wasteful. You defend a hollow honor," Ghirahim scolded, looking coldly at the boy down the length of his arm. "But with such vigor…" Brushing over the boy's mouth delicately with his white glove, Ghirahim touched the bokoblin's blood to the human's lips. Link could still feel its sizzling heat. "One can only imagine what power you would possess if you were to defend something of true worth."

Link swallowed hard, shocked at the closeness the Demon Lord forced upon him. It was frightening – not knowing the demon's next move. Clearly this behavior was an extension of his talent for intimidation and provoking submission.

Removing his hand, Ghirahim rubbed the bodily fluid between his fingers. It was thick and dark against the stark white of his attire. Link brought the back of his hand to his mouth, dragging it across the sensitive flesh. The same hue of red streaked across his skin, the odor overwhelmingly metallic.

"Since you are without a weapon, I suggest you remove the bokoblin's." Ghirahim remarked with haste, slinking past the human. "He no longer has need of it…but you will shortly."

The path of Diados grew narrower the deeper the pair traveled into its center. For Link, it became increasingly more difficult to navigate the tight turns and restrictive walls. The shadows and limited light shifted constantly, giving way to the illusion that the rocks moved like a living organism. The hero could feel the liquid dry on his skin, stretching and cracking across his face. He bit at his lip, tasting the coppery flavor. He gripped the weapon he had stolen from the bokoboblin, its blade serrated. It was crudely designed in comparison to the beauty the Master Sword. His hand felt unnatural with this new weapon.

Ghirahim darted far ahead, impatience guiding his every move. It was easy to lose track of the demon amidst the towering ramparts and impeding night. His cape was the only signal in the dark; a house of light in the distance.

How much further could Afentis be?

Without warning, the demon turned abruptly around an unseen corner. Link followed obediently. However, instead of a new corridor, he was met with an indentation in the canyon. Once possessing a pocket of air, the space bowled open. It was a minor crevice, insignificant to the average observer; a cavity of untouched space. However, at the base of the gap, a modest hole was exposed. Ghirahim was nowhere to be seen, having passed through the opening as slick as grease. Or perhaps, he did not need to pass through as a normal being would do. Whatever the case, the Demon Lord had passed through without trouble.

Getting down on his hands and knees, the boy squeezed into the opening. The tunnel had not been worn through; stones and earth stick out in all directions. However, Link was able to move through the space easily enough, the rounded tunnel just large enough for his frame. He dragged his weapon along the dirt, the granules scraping the metal in a dissonant tune. Link grunted with every inch, forcing his way to the opposite opening several feet away.

As he passed through the exit, the tunnel expanded into a wider orifice. While very dim, it was apparent that a carved, winding staircase stretched beneath the earth. Rising to his feet, the youth pressed onward.

Downward the staircase spiraled, corkscrewing into the foundations. The steps were polished, gleaming like marble. The surrounding walls were made from the same stone; intricate yet strong. The boy's footsteps bounced across the surface in discord, his faint shadow following him down the flight. He did not need to be instructed on where to go. All that he could do was descend.

The air was moist, coating Link's throat in needed moisture. It felt as if years had transpired since the hero had seen the glistening water, inhaled the scent of trees, and felt the cool wind on his face. He was forced to remember his dream-like encounter with the Nandu. But at the back of his thoughts, Link knew that greater trials went before him. He had no trail of which to track backward.

At last, the hero took his final step.

At the base of the stair, three ominous black wall stood in wait. But unlike the stone of the stairway, intricate carvings of ancient symbols littered the surface. They curved along the walls like constellations, their meanings surpassing the knowledge of the longest living human. But what stood out even amongst the etchings was the vague outline of a doorway of the forward facing slab. Written above the arch was a language the youth could not decipher. What did they say? The area also had an aura of trepidation.

The Demon Lord stood before the blocked doorway. His crimson cape fell limply at his sides, his limbs unmoving. Link hesitated behind the demon, unsure of stepping forward. It was Ghirahim who would make the next move.

Approaching the adjacent rock, Ghirahim caressed the inscriptions with his wanton fingers. His ministrations wound round with the letters, all the while a foreign language flowing from his lips. The sound rolled from the tongue in heavy chants, producing power with every syllable. All the hero could do was stand and observe. What was he saying?

Round and round about the space Ghirahim walked, his voice rising and falling like the tide. His words tumbled rapidly, his arms quaking with unseen magic. His eyes were ferocious like a feral beast's, his fair complexion a façade. The foundations shook, the sky all but colliding with its earthly child. When it seemed that the demon's actions would consume him in madness, he stopped.

Link inhaled deeply.

"Through the gate, in search of fate…" Ghirahim whispered, approaching the outlined doorway. "A path unwound, few have found…"

Once again, the demon summoned his weapon through his whirling magic. The blood of the bokoblin had cooled, though it was still as wet like the dew of the morning on the blade. Raising it above his head, the Demon Lord placed the sharp edge between his first two fingers at the hilt. Pulling them to the tip, the demon painted his members in the gore.

The human listened to the words and their inscrutable meaning.

"A path unwound, few have found…" the boy murmured to himself.

"Through the gate, in search of fate," Ghirahim continued, his back still to the hero. "Time held still, bound by will…"

The demon caressed the cold stone wall, touching his bloodstained fingers to the center of the outline. In a counter-clockwise motion, Ghirahim traced a large triangle. Its topmost point was directed to the ground, the remaining two facing both right and left. Within the shape's inner space, three smaller triangles were drawn.

It resembled the triforce, balanced perilously on its top.

"The triforce…?" Link questioned. What significance did the holy relic have in such a dark world?

Drawing his bloodied hand close, the demon clenched his fingers into a fist. He focused his dark power into the extremity, the limb turning a familiar shade of black. Wisps of enchantment swirled the arm like a tornado, pulling it to and fro. With his last ounce of control, the Demon Lord thrust his hand forward, his palm pressed flat in the innermost triangle.

The energy rushed from his arm, absorbed greedily by the barrier. The inverted triforce glowed an eerie shade of violet before it turned black; consuming the magic whole. The onyx stone fell away into an opaque smoke, unaffected by outside winds. Like a thick curtain it floated, beckoning the observer to reveal its secrets.

The demon at last glanced over his shoulder, ignoring the youth until this very moment.

"To endure last birth," The Demon Lord called, a simper upon his lips. "To endure first death."

Sauntering forward, Ghirahim vanished through the smoky door, his flamboyant figure immersed by the unfamiliar. With blade gripped tightly in hand, the 'Hero of the Goddess' subsequently passed through the curtain.

To endure his last birth?

**Author's Note:** Ta-dah! More action headed Link's way! So what did you think? I have to say that this chapter came pretty close to what I wanted. I wanted to give you a taste of what was to come, but not get right into it! ^_~ Perhaps entice you into the next chapter. This whole section feels rather long, and I apologize to those who are having a hard time remaining interested…But I hope that isn't the case! I don't want to move too quickly and shove too much into a chapter (even though this chapter felt like it moved quickly). I kind of follow a natural flow, deciding when appropriate to end a chapter. Also, I plan on reading a lot of books when I am finally free from my textbooks. One of my favorites is _Memoirs of a Geisha._ What is one of your favorite books? Again, please leave me a review (and don't be afraid to let me know of grammatical errors, I have no beta but myself)! I love to hear from you!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I present to you the eighth installment of _The Bane_! It's a little early in terms of a my schedule, but I did not think anyone would mind. And of course I want to thank everyone who left reviews for the last chapter! It has now reached 100 reviews! That's crazy! It is a milestone for this story. But also thank-you to those who read! ^_^ It is very much appreciated! But as I go deeper and deeper into the story, I tread further into less explored ideas…XD I suppose it is a reflection of the story itself, huh? But as of right now I plan to keep going! And random fact, I am playing Oracle of Seasons! I have never played it before, and of course want to play as many Zelda games as I can get my hands on! I'm certainly glad I know someone with a Gameboy…or else I would have had to buy a used one! ^_^

**Alerts:** I do not own Zelda. However, the characters that I have created belong to me! But I don't think that anyone would want to steal those…_ Also, shonen-ai/slash/yaoi (whatever you call it) is still applicable! Be warned. Take the proper precautions in order to keep yourself safe and free from damage!

_The Bane_

The smoke embraced Link on all sides, curling around his frame in silent wisps. No discernible odor filled the boy's lungs, only a vague cooling sensation washed over his burnt cheeks and course lips. It was oddly soothing though its source was unknown. The sounds of the hero's steps were lost amongst the opaque surroundings, the echo absorbed by the walls and ceiling like a closed container.

Ghirahim walked several feet ahead as he had done through Diados' earthen corridor. His figure was obscured as if draped in a slate sheet, the smoke draping his shoulders like a funeral veil. He moved silently like a spirit without mortal bonds; flowing between time and space as effortlessly as the air. The youth followed as he had done before; obedient yet filled with hesitation. He knew the Demon Lord would lead him into danger. But turning back whispered of greater woes. All the while, the cryptic incantation hummed in the human's mind.

"Through the gate, in search of fate…" they purred luridly. "A path unwound, few have found…"

What did the riddle allude to? Its eerie words sealed away a multitude of secrets, as if they were hidden away in an embellished box with a looming lock. The key was Afentis; it was she who would release all knowledge upon the hero. Whether her words were of hope or loss, they would spread forth like a plague upon the breeze. But the profits outweighed the risk of ruin. There was still so much that the hero did not understand. His inquiries were quickly adding one after the other.

What of the inverted triforce Ghirahim had drawn in blood?

Link had only just learned of the triforce's existence. In the legends of old, it was told that the Goddess, Hylia was the protector of a magnificent might. This power would grant the holder the desires of their heart; for untainted or malicious intent. To protect it from the scourges of the dark ones, she sent the relic skyward. Through the barrier of clouds it soared, outcroppings of earth accompanying its ascent. It was there in Skyloft that such a power was cloaked in myth; entrenched in tradition so that true meaning was lost. Learning of the sacred relic was a revelation. But the golden triangles were symbols of balance and righteousness. In a realm so far removed from the sky – banished to the everlasting darkness, what benefit could demons derive from worshipping the triforce? Link could not say.

Whatever the answer, it awaited the pair at the end of the smoky corridor.

Link grasped tightly the weapon, knowing full well that he would be required to use it in the not so distant future. While he could not imagine the foes he would encounter, he dreaded the need to use the brutal metal. Death was the natural course of life. However, taking the life of another so sadistically was unnatural. But as Ghirahim had so poignantly showed, so much power was derived from the action...

The hero did not want to think about that. He was unwavering in this ideology. But his footing was on sand.

Continuing forward, the boy watched Ghirahim's ghostly silhouette slip from view. His body's imprint no longer moved the smoke about. Instead, the grey matter rushed over the empty space, reclaiming it like a river free from a dam. No sound followed the demon's departure. The youth stopped, the tendrils of air winding around his legs. He breathed deeply, the smoke trembling at his mouth.

"To endure last birth…" the incantation resonated.

"To endure first death…" Link finished in a murmur.

What did these resounding words mean?

"No time to answer that now." The blonde responded vocally. Willing his limbs to walk, he stepped forward just as Ghirahim had done.

The ashen curtain had been raised on the hero's stage, leaving him to stand before an unusual sight. The smoke of the corridor sank to the floor, layering it like a placid pool. The ceiling was as high and dark as the heavens, its end known only to the creators. The walls were like the horizon, the eye unable to properly gauge the distance. Most peculiar of all was a singular stoic archway. It stood mere feet away, the stone gleaming like obsidian. Without a door, the arch curved sleekly as if it was carved with a single cut. There was nothing around it, or beyond it.

The boy glanced over his shoulder, the entrance still open at his back. There was still the chance to turn back.

The Demon Lord faced the youth, his lips curving into a smirk. The fog flooded about his feet.

"Welcome, sky-child," the demon entertained. "To the Hall of Afentis."

Link's eyes traveled over the room, scanning the illusionary distance.

"But," the youth began. "There's nothing here…"

Ghirahim's mouth widened into a smile, showcasing his sharp canines.

"Oh, there are a great many things here…" Ghirahim replied esoterically. "All that is essential is to stop – feel the misery. It pulses through the air…listen…"

Taking a graceful side-step, the demon circled the lone arch. Like a vulture he drifted around it. His eyes were not fixed on a specific point. Instead they fluttered every which way.

"Such delicious suffering…" he mused, twirling on his feet, "Ambrosial nectar unlike any known substance…so many are lost within this hall."

In front of the obsidian arch, the demon planted his feet wide apart. In a dance-like gesture, Ghirahim stretched his long arms out to his sides. He appeared on the verge of flight. Circling his limbs, the Demon Lord mimicked bringing a bouquet of sweet blossoms to his chest; embracing them adoringly.

"Words are unable to express the unadulterated bliss such sensations shower upon the receiver…"

He held his arms close for several long minutes. Link observed the demon with deep suspicion. The blonde had witnessed Ghirahim's unpredictable mood swings many times. Many resulted in the demon inflicting immense horror and destruction on whoever was near. Link knew he could not fend of the demon with his blade if he chose to exact revenge. His breath was trapped in his throat.

Drawing his hands from his lean chest, Ghirahim brought them to his face. Closing his eyes in elation, the demon breathed in their aroma. He passed each finger before his nose, inhaling each with purpose. His fantasies were so near. He could practically feel the taste the blood that once coursed through the veins of the now passed.

"Their austere requiems are my joy…"

Link's heart thumped worryingly. Ghirahim's delusions stimulated the venom festering within his chest. It was a malicious excitement that the hero had never experienced before. An experience he wished not to endure. If he could, the boy would draw the poison from his heart with his own lips. However noble an attempt, the action would cause greater harm than good.

The boy's eyes connected with Ghirahim's coal colored irises. With one alluring hand, the Demon Lord beckoned the hero to come closer. But the demon's expression performed the greatest persuasion. It pierced the most remote fragments of the youth's consciousness.

"Can you hear them, my little bird?"

One step.

Two.

The 'Hero of the Goddess' approached the demon. When the Demon Lord spoke with such sugary words, foreboding was piqued. Like a lethal spider, it's beautifully woven web enchants the helpless passersby. Only when it is too late are their minds awakened to their grave mistake. Ghirahim shifted his figure to the side, allowing the youth to discern what he felt so passionately. Link peered through the arch with incredulity.

Though his clear blue irises saw only blackness and smoke, Link's ears caught the sound of whispers. They were barely audible, but were there. Their muted cries told of tales old and terrible. They sobbed at their torment, at relief that would never be offered. While their light voices were as hushed as ocean mist, their sorrow was as heavy as stone.

A discordant choir.

Link longed to help these souls. With his gentle spirit he would lift them up with little concern for himself. But strangely, the darkness in his heart longed for them in a new way. He wanted to be wrapped in their exhilarating emotion; their raw pain. It was such an untainted sensation.

No.

Link shook the disturbing thoughts from his mind like leaves from a tree. To follow such fallacies would lead him down a treacherous path. He already unwillingly accepted the assistance of Ghirahim. It was a dangerous partnership. But while he dwelled in the company of the demon, Link would do his best to follow in Hylia's light.

The serenity of her smile.

"Can you hear them?" Ghirahim asked from behind the blonde.

But how can you cling to light in the dead of night?

Leaning into the crook of the boy's neck, began to speak. The hair of Link's neck stood on end. But he did not change position. Instead he stood motionless. Once again, Link worried as to Ghirahim's understanding of his thoughts.

"Do they arouse your innermost yearning?" the demon continued. Wandering upward, Ghirahim's mischievous lips hovered precariously over the boy's prickled skin. "I can sense their influence…"

The blonde closed his eyes. He had little control over his faculties. Why? He knew he had been enraptured by the spirit choir. But that was not the sole cause. Ghirahim was in tune with a part of his soul that the hero wanted to conceal. While his sinister desires were heightened in this demonic realm, no one before the Demon Lord knew of his shadows. The demon was an audience to a dramatic change. Ghirahim was the only soul who saw every facet of the hero. Not even Fi was acquainted with such knowledge.

It was an uncomfortable camaraderie.

"You hunger…" the demon murmured. But hunger sparked sparked a variety of meanings unrelated to physical need for sustenance. Link tightened his muscles.

"I don't." Link at last uttered.

The Demon Lord's breath danced over the boy's skin with every syllable. Ghirahim's hands stroked the hero's shoulders.

"But you do…" the demon responded, "Your aloofness attests to it."

The hero was already caught in the Demon Lord's web. Link knew it. He had already made first move; needing Ghirahim's knowledge. But was he so tangled that he was losing himself in the process?

"Stepping through the arch, you will be at her mercy…" he hummed, "There is no return way…"

Gliding downward, the demon's left hand crossed the expanse of the blonde's chest. With feather light touches it came to rest over the youth's pounding life-organ; the small injury disguised by the human's green tunic. Link exhaled.

"But the retribution is of far greater value."

The spider waited at the edge of its well-spun home. For the opportune moment it would wait. Only then would it strike.

"This is your chance to turn back…will you?"

Will you?

Link's eyelids fluttered open. He had made his decision long ago. There was no questioning his final choice. Though Link was stuck in the web, he would fight until he was no longer able. He would not cave to the enticing of a demon—even as he walked beside him.

"No." the hero replied resolutely. "I can't go back."

The Demon Lord laughed balefully, digging his long fingers into the boy's chest.

"Outstanding…"

The human's heart constricted as if on command. Though Link did not know what was waiting beyond the archway, the darkness in his heart had a strange knowledge of such mysteries.

Removing his physical presence, Ghirahim placed his hands flat on the boy's back. With one swift shove, the Demon Lord pushed the hero through the archway.

The blonde stumbled through the black doorframe, his fair hair clinging desperately to his cheeks. However, the scenery changed little. It remained as desolate as the canyon beyond the chamber's walls. Ghirahim stepped through unperturbed. But as his crimson cloak fluttered beyond the frame, the entirety of the gap was filled. As if a piece to a puzzle, the missing door occupied the vacancy. This door was not in possession of a handle.

No return way.

The original passageway was also changed; no sign indicating its existence remained. Instead the wall was rendered flawless. Further within the hall several new items were placed. Three new doorways awaited the pair. Each identical to the first arch, they circled a polished pedestal. These items were accompanied by a transformation of mood. The chamber was different somehow.

As if invisible eyes watched and waited.

Regaining his balance the boy stood to his full height, the fog settling around his feet. He reached up to his chest, running his fingers over the small indentation along with the new injury inflicted by the demon. While Link believed no skin had been broken, the spot stung like an insect bite. Yet even more so, his inner emotional conflict was of greater discomfort. The Demon Lord was cunning, knowing how to toy with the human. Realizing that Ghirahim would be observing his every move, Link dropped his hand to his side. The demon chuckled darkly.

"No need to be so coy, sky-child." The demon sneered, "You experience a great deal…"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Link responded out of habit. However, he couldn't deny his heart's wicked eagerness and excitement. Again, his mind was quick to dispel such thoughts. The Demon Lord was a manipulator, presuming to know Link's innermost self. Nothing more.

"You may communicate whatever you wish. However, denial in your case will prove advantageous for only so long…"

The youth did not respond. Instead he placed his attention on the new items before him. They were of the utmost importance at this current point. He walked toward them, Ghirahim moving behind.

"Afentis must be of a foul disposition." The demon remarked. "Or perhaps your presence has provoked her from her long-standing listlessness."

"Listlessness?" the youth asked.

"Really, my little-sky child," the demon responded. "Is such vocabulary beyond your comprehension?"

"That's not what I meant." Link replied hotly.

"Oh of course not!" Ghirahim replied with feigned apology, "So silly of me to discount your infinite intelligence. But as I was saying before you so inconsiderately interrupted me…"

Link sighed in annoyance.

"So few arrive at her grand hall! What a dull and unhappy life she must lead, but that is all of her own making. So when she is so fortunate to welcome visitors she entertains them…"

Link groaned inwardly. How naïve for him to expect, nay hope to come face to face with the mystic so easily. The most valuable ends were only attained through great means. A price must be paid.

"She is so magnanimous as to present you with three tasks. How auspicious!" Ghirahim snickered.

"So she doesn't use the same task for each person?" the youth inquired, reaching the elegant stand. It was carved with the same foreign language as her doorstep. They spiraled down the length in a most extravagant design. However, the letters were still unable to be read by the blonde.

"Only a fool would reach such a misguided conclusion." The Demon Lord derided. "But your limited experience is likely the culprit. As you so contentiously stated moments ago: your intellect could not be the cause."

Link glared, once again being taunted with his youth. While he was only a boy, he had grown leaps and bounds. He was a man in many aspects. However, his age had never bothered him before; that is until the Demon Lord made it a constant point of ridicule. This derision created insecurity. The youth's heart tingled.

"When passing through the first archway, she assesses your skills as well as your intent." Ghirahim elaborated. "If I had gone through at the start, well...let us just say that your fragile being would be unable to withstand the trial."

Measure the entrant's skill? Their intents? If she was so powerful as to analyze such abilities, what other mysticisms could she perform?

"I doubt you went last out of generosity." Link remarked coldly, placing his palm upon the cool surface of the pedestal. Even without touching it, a palpable power was apparent. It circled the stand like an incorporeal fortification. But it was disjointed; broken apart.

"Once again, you allow your short temper to get the best of you. Perhaps you weren't meant to dwell among the light with such a temperament?" the demon teased.

"To be like you, you mean." Link snapped, looking over his shoulder at the elegant demon. His heart throbbed angrily.

"It holds more incentives than you might suppose. But do not fret, little bird. Afentis is completely aware of me. As a matter of fact, she is observing us as we speak."

The mood of the room was clear. The unseen being who watched the pair like an otiose god was Afentis. Like the master of the board, she had complete control of the arena. With her calculating hand she would shape the panel according to her inclination. The pieces were insignificant additions to her realm; changing with every minute that passes.

Link's eyes passed through the darkness; over the empty arches. What deadly tasks were hidden beyond their hollow openings? But Link's mind was already searching for answers to the game; an unfair game at that. Perhaps he was required to retrieve the splintered pieces of a whole? The hero had encountered riddles just as this, and yet none were as terrifying.

"What am I meant to gain with these tasks? What am I looking for?" Link inquired, more to himself than the Demon Lord. As he spoke, the arch to the pedestal's left captured his attention. It waited just as the others did, its untarnished sheen just as pristine. Perhaps it was the appropriate place to start.

"Why ask me?" Ghirahim replied, winding between the separated spaces between the doorframes. He fit so well with the surroundings; fruit fallen from the same pernicious tree. "Are you not the 'Hero of the Goddess,' _chosen_ by destiny?"

The 'Hero of the Goddess.' Being called such a title, he was permanently separated from everyone.

But to what extent had the boy from Skyloft fulfilled his calling? As far as the youth was aware, his ultimate enemy was still wandering the dark corners of the world. He had failed to defeat him at their final battle. He was dragged into the pit of endless woe; the home of all demons. He did not even hold in his hand the holy blade of evil's bane. The threat of destruction had not been extinguished. Instead, it felt more real than ever. Could Link really take upon himself the title of 'hero?'

Appearing before the blonde's line of vision, Ghirahim placed his talented hands upon the pedestal. He leaned over it like a low-hanging tree branch, the skin of his face a spectral white. The hero could not look at the demon. His thoughts were not safe from Ghirahim's prying eyes.

No matter how much the hero denied it.

And yet, while doubt lingered at the back of Link's mind, he still made a promise. He would do all that he could to preserve peace on the surface; to return to his home. He would return to all those he cared about. To Zelda.

That promise he would strive to keep.

"I am not what everyone expects," the boy uttered. "But I will do what I can…"

"How gallant…" the demon mocked.

Turning on his heel, Link walked strongly to the left archway. He felt intensely that it was where he should start. His gut instincts were like a compass; when used correctly it would lead you in the right direction. The arch waited for him to pass through; to solve its puzzle. Though the blade he held in his hand was no the Master Sword, Link would fight as if it was. Though Fi was absent, he would be encouraged by her previous guidance. And he would take comfort in the safety of his loved ones.

"Are you coming?" the blonde questioned, noticing that the Demon Lord made no effort to change position. Instead, the poised himself atop the pedestal, crossing one leg gracefully over the other. His elbow rested on his knee, his chin supported by his gloved knuckles. An image of repose.

"You will venture alone." Ghirahim spoke. "It no longer poses any entertainment for me. I would be the one to do all of the work! No, I will remain here; to be entertained."

"Fine." Link said irately. Being Ghirahim's play-thing was not his ideal. But without Ghirahim he would have to be even more on his guard.

"I am in no mood for any serious blunders," the Demon Lord called at Link's back. "I detest the idea of expunging your mishaps."

Placing his free hand upon the archway's side, Link looked straightway into the opening.

"Even so, Afentis is looking forward to quite the display, as am I. Be sure not to disappoint."

Steadily, he took a step into the unfamiliar. He slipped beyond the barrier, leaving the Demon Lord to dwell alone in Afentis' watchful perception.

**Author's Note:** Hey hey! There you go! I have to say that at first writing this chapter I thought: "Oh no! I might be having a brain cramp! No!" But once I started writing about the archway, it went much better. I initially wasn't sure how I was going to write the area (I had minor details worked out) but I like what I have in store! And again, I am sorry for cutting it early. It was again a natural ending. I could have written more, but it would have been a beast. And sometimes a lot of text can be intimidating. But I am using a Zelda staple here: the number there! It's just what you do! And it is so much a part of the Zelda format that it cannot be ignored. So I hope no one has a problem with that! Anyway, it's kind of funny, but I want to draw some of these images I've described. But I'm not the best at drawing landscapes. I'm much better with faces and objects. XD So please let me know what you think! Again, I love your feedback! And even if you have never reviewed, don't be afraid to do so! Have a wonderful day!


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** Greetings fellow fanfiction junkies! I hereby present to you the ninth installment of _The Bane_! Sah-weet! ^_^ We just continue to move along, don't we? And as usual, thank-you for the lovely reviews for the previous chapter. They fill my heart with rainbows (no sarcasm intended, they really do!) I am reminded of a song by Dio, "A Rainbow in the Dark." Anyone heard that song? Well I love it! ^_~ Your reviews are like a rainbow in the dark! Also, (shameless plugs…) I have posted a new one-shot that is a sequel to _Beast_ called _Fever!_ So if you are so inclined, please give it a gander! I also have started a small collection of poetry that deals with Ocarina of Time! Also, I wasn't planning to have this chapter stand on its own (in fact, it was longer than I originally intended), which is part of why I waited til after my return to post it. Anyhow, I'm in a bit of a theatrical mood, so I'll proceed.

**Alerts:** I still lack in ownership for The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. Also this fic is shonen-ai, though not particularly in this chapter. But the rhyming to follow is of an epic nature. XD

_The Bane_

Chapter 9

Link felt as if a cool breeze washed over him. It glided across his skin like satin, caressing his tired form. However, the sensation did not linger. It evaporated like the dew of morning, leaving the boy to tingle all over. It did not present itself as evil or benign; it was simply there. His sight was foggy as well. All he could witness were blurred shapes and dusty light.

It was time to prove himself to Afentis; prove he was worthy of her mystical foresight. But what plans did she have waiting in the wings?

The blonde stepped through the opposite side of the arch. Not a single hair upon his head was harmed. Yet, who was to say that his current standing would remain intact? Once his last limb had passed through the glistening barrier, its hole was filled behind him. It was occupied by the same dark material; just as the first doorway. The youth turned around on his heel, knowing full well he would be trapped like a caged bird.

'My little bird…'

He shook his head, chasing away the name the Demon Lord had placed upon him. And yet at this very moment, it fit. He was an exotic creature in this world; a creature of light. He was observed with immense desire and ravenous gluttony; like a cat, poised to pounce on its petrified prey. There was nowhere for him to turn. Even the hero's guide looked upon him with hungering eyes – hungering for his light. But the boy knew Ghirahim would not consume him like the others had so desperately tried to do—at least not in the same fashion.

No, there were greater schemes behind his cool façade. Even so, Link was determined to escape from this dark cage; spread his wings and return to his home above the clouds.

"No turning back is right…" the hero murmured to himself. The sealed archway was smooth like a mirror, reflecting the youth's haggard appearance with profound accuracy. It had been days since the hero had seen his reflection. Bringing his free hand to his face, he inspected the damage.

His mirrored image exemplified a battered being. His jade tunic was tattered; stained with blood and sweat. His boots were covered in dirt, the soil managing to reach the bottom of his pants. All of his collected items from the surface were missing, leaving him to feel naked. The flesh of his arms and neck were littered with scratches, their searing marks dulled only by the formation of scabs. His face was sallow, the youthful rounding of his cheeks affected by his lack of nutrition. However, this gaunt appearance exaggerated his masculine features; a strong jaw coupled with defined cheekbones. He looked older.

This prolonged journey not only changed how he felt, but how he looked as well. It left Link with a piqued sense of melancholy. His heart throbbed. But through all the changes he endured, his eyes had undergone little transformation. Through the grime, they gleamed with the same childlike vitality; as blue as they had ever been.

Dropping his hand, the blonde held tightly to the weapon he unwillingly accepted. His reflection followed suit.

"All right…" he whispered, "Let's go."

Turning about on the spot, the hero glanced around the space with curious eyes.

A long, stony hallway stretched before him, an imposing wall ceasing its progress several yards away. The corridor was widely set, enough to accommodate a group of twelve or more. It was more than enough for the average sized youth. A high ceiling topped the new area. Every surface was level; perfectly symmetrical. But the grey shade of the stone was dull, not nearly as refined as the archways.

It was as silent as death.

Link stepped forward cautiously, still scanning the towering walls. It was reminiscent of the canyon of Diados. Though the boy discerned his solitude physically, he was wholly cognizant of eyes that were not his own. But, Ghirahim and Afentis were not the only souls in observance. There were _others_.

The hero could feel how strong their presence was when positioned before the first archway, but their woes were severely amplified in this area. Their misery reverberated off the walls, expanding the mood with diabolical efficiency. They could not be seen, but they were there. They dwelled in inaudible anonymity.

A shiver ran down Link's spine, chilling his bones. Had these invisible onlookers passed through the same trial, and failed? Perhaps their punishment was to inhabit this puzzle for eternity? Whatever the truth, he knew they would not act out to harm him. Their physical attributes were long gone; forgotten. Nevertheless, their emotions were stifling.

Yet, intoxicating.

But, Link would strive against a similar fate as well as his heart's unnatural interests. The idea alone was disturbing.

Walking not yet five steps, something caught the corner of the blonde's eye. Turning his head to the right, he perceived an elegant script embellished upon the wall. Unlike the foreign text he viewed previously, the words were as clear as a summer day. The language was his own! The boy had never been so thrilled to see letters he recognized. Practically rushing the barrier, the human placed his hand upon the inscription.

"In darkness thou wilt learn, throughout this stony lair." he spoke out loud. "In lyrics thou wilt find, knowledge scattered there. Collect them all in search, reveal the waiting door. But, traveler take heed, the lyrics offer more. Should you find the answer, among the ancient runes; the task will be completed, just as the swollen moon."

"More riddles…" Link sighed. He was already drowning in riddles. Though the amount was extreme, fate felt that it was not nearly enough. Agitation pricked his heart. But the hero knew better than to disregard the enigmatic words. Their flowery meaning told of the mystic's first trial.

The only way for the hero to successfully find his way through the test, was to seek the remaining stanzas; to find the words carved immaculately in the stone. He needed to learn the concept that Afentis desired him to know. Why would she assist anyone who was lacking in valuable understanding?

She wouldn't. That must be why she desired to see her visitors' potential at solving the riddle. Only then would she reveal herself.

Removing his hand, the boy moved further down the corridor. The hallway stretched far forward, to the right and left as well; like roots from the trunk of a tree.

Link peered down their lengths, assessing the corridors. He did not feel immediately threatened, though his gut was wary. But he had to move forward. Yet, what direction to go? Link supposed that his chosen route would not entirely affect the course of the trial. Even so, the hero wanted to appraise the situation and make the wisest course of action.

Each hallway was almost identical. Shadows clung to their edges like cobwebs unable to be swept away. There was no sign of movement—Link the only living being within the stony trap.

Scanning to the left, the blonde decided he would begin with the corresponding hallway. Raising his weapon parallel to his chest, Link did not want to be caught off guard. Even though there was no evidence pointing to the existence of enemies, it was wiser to be prepared.

The poem whispered to the hero's thoughts. He would seek the concealed lyrics.

With quick steps, the human reached the end of his chosen way. But, there was nothing waiting for him. The corridor did not progress, nor were alternative directions for him to travel present. The hall was blunted.

"What?" Link inquired with incredulity. Why weren't new hallways sprouting from this one? Had he been mistaken in the direction he should travel first? What folly. Ghirahim was undoubtedly snickering at the boy's inability.

"I'm sure…" the boy commented to himself, imagining the demon's devilish smirk. Ghirahim always made a point to flash that smile when he knew exactly what the boy was pondering. It was truly uncanny, and succeeded in overcoming the hero with immense self-consciousness. Link pushed his hair from his eyes in annoyance. It did not matter if the demon was with him or not; he occupied a large portion of his thoughts.

He moved the demon from his focus. He needed to retrace his steps; return to his point of origin.

Taking a backward step, the youth started back to where he had come from.

But, he couldn't!

The opposite end where he started had become a dead end, too! It was open no longer; blocked by another daunting wall. He was stuck in a narrow, stony box. He was in a coffin; to be buried alive?

The boy refrained from an outburst, determined not to indulge his audience with his confusion. Instead, he tightened his jaw. What was going on? With the exception of the introductory poem, he had little to go on. No openings for the hero to enter.

What was he to do?

But the question was quickly answered. The sight of elegant script pulled at the youth's attention. It curved across the right wall, sinking into the stone if it were a bed of sand. Just as beautiful, the phrase revealed the first piece of the puzzle. Link followed the writing eagerly, relieved to progress. Standing face to face with the inscription, he inspected the saying.

"An honor it mislays; reveals the trodden way," he spoke out loud. But the words offered no immediate knowledge. What meaning did this cryptic lyric possess?

"An honor it mislays; reveals the trodden way?" the youth read again, hoping an answer would be bestowed upon him. Instead the words sat quietly in the stone, unyielding to their secrets.

What were they saying?

Link wracked his mind. He had no other choice.

The time passed slowly, as if the seconds had frozen in place. The only way the ticking of time would precede was if Link found the deeper meaning.

He paced the length of the stone chamber.

What would cause an honor to be misplaced? There were numerous ways of which an individual could achieve such an end. The hero himself endured similar thoughts every waking moment; to dishonor his loved ones as well as his own person. But he persevered. He followed the guidance that Fi offered, that the Goddess revealed; followed Zelda. But he was pushed deeper and deeper into untested waters. Failure was an ever present possibility.

Failure.

The word rang loud and clear.

Through failure blossomed a blemished honor. Also, it was not uncommon; countless many have walked the way of failure. It was a trodden way.

"Failure…" Like spoke, a supernatural force emanating from the word.

The term tumbled from his lips like coins spilling from a satchel. But he did not feel as if he were speaking normally. His voice was pulled from within him, as easily as a breath.

When the final syllable crossed his mouth, the walls preventing further access were wiped away. As seamlessly as they appeared, they vanished without a trace. Their departure opened an expansive view to more unfamiliar hallways. From the front and the back they swept; endless possibilities in both directions. Link narrowed his blue eyes.

He had a greater idea of what he was to do. Not only was he to locate the remaining script, but it was imperative that he speak each phrase. Vocalization was the key to opening new paths; to travel deeper into the labyrinth.

But, the strange magic involved in his utterance was little understood.

Resigning himself, Link continued in his original direction. He would hold onto each discovered rhyme; relying on it like a compass.

9

The corridors wound deeper and deeper into the space. Like a mine, the tunnels pushed into the mountainside. Link wandered through the trial's bending ways, following wherever he felt prompted to go. His determination fueled his fire. However, this flickering flame could only be maintained with diligence.

An eternity seemed to pass.

With each corner turned, each hallway passed through, the blonde was presented with unexplored areas. Not a single feature remained a permanent fixture in his memory.

From an undefined source, light ebbed on the walls in a haunting dance. It mingled with the draping shadows, fusing together in a sinister communion. Like a mask, each stone of the foundations was garbed in a disguise. Their true features were kept from the hero. Link was burdened with a strong sense of trepidation. It clung to him like an unwanted guest, its piercing fingers clutching at his heart.

To defend against dread's grasp, the boy darted down each corridor. Like a footrace he sped down the lengths, dashing around angles as swift as a rabbit. His green cap barely managed to hold on, flapping about his shoulders frantically. His breathing pressed against his ears with immense pressure, the eyes of his audience soaking into his skin. Vigor burned in his muscles but proved of little assistance in regards to his progress.

He was only going in circles. Not only that, but he had only come across one other script in the seemingly frozen time.

'How grand shall be the prize, of pride it satisfies.' But even though he had located the second stanza, he never saw it again. Still, Link added it to the first phrase; creating a collection. However, nothing new had come out of hiding.

Everything kept out of sight.

Rounding yet another unidentifiable crook, the youth was met with a stunted end. It was little more than a nub of the greater hallway it expanded from. Anger snapped inside him.

Throwing his weapon to the floor, the boy growled in irritation. He had exerted himself for naught; mentally and physically. Moving as far back as he could into the space, Link leaned languidly against the right wall, his hands curled into fists. The shadows surrounded him in a macabre embrace. Sliding to the floor, Link's legs crumpled beneath him. He leaned over his knees, gathering the remainder of his endurance.

"I'm getting nowhere," he remarked sardonically.

Hopelessness nipped at his chest like the bitter cold. This was only the first task! If he struggled to this extent here, how was he to defend against the immeasurable forces that stalked behind him – not to mention the demons clouded by the future? Bringing one knee to his chest, Link rested his hand upon it. The incantation at Afentis' doorstep reverberated in the confines of his mind.

'Through the gate, in search of fate,' it hummed in Ghirahim's sultry voice. "A path unwound, few have found.'

Those words were literally transposed onto the undertaking at hand.

"Of course…" Link groaned. His heart rate increased with each negative thought.

The human remembered the sting of the Nandu's venom; how he hunched over in agony. He had to maintain some semblance of control. He had to while he was aware of the metamorphosis taking place. He already took notice of his changing mood and foreign thoughts.

Relaxing his hands, the youth rubbed at his eyes. He inhaled slowly. He drew up peaceful images of home. It soothed his ailing organ. He needed to keep calm. Link knew it was not time to relinquish himself to inactivity. He thought of Fi and the guidance she had given to him on occasions before. Everything was not as it appeared to be.

The frigid hopelessness would have to wait.

"I must be looking at this all wrong…" he pondered verbally. Raising his sights, he fixated them on the opposing wall. The light danced across the surface. "I need think differently."

Throwing his head backward, the youth closed his weary eyes. The shadows waved lethargically across his eyelids.

What was he doing wrong?

He had snaked through the labyrinth, but to no avail. He followed the winding pathways in hopes that the objective would present itself. But it had not. The halls weaved themselves into a tapestry of tumult, the loose ends indistinguishable from the greater picture.

Lifting his aching hands, Link ran his fingers through his unkempt tendrils. He could feel the pulsing blood in his fingers. Sweat had also formed on his scalp. Retracting his appendages, the human dropped them at his sides. He pressed his palms flat against the cold floor. He stroked the cool surface, enjoying the contrast to his heated body. Neither a speck of dust or dirt met his fingertips.

He stroked the stone gently, the tracing circles over the slab. But as he caressed the floor with his left hand, he felt a rough texture.

Link opened his eyes.

He brushed over the section again.

Looking down the length of his arm, the boy slid his hand out of the way. Tiny words were scribbled into the floor.

Nearly jumping up from his sitting position, Link shifted his body to gaze over the section of stone. Leaning several inches above the spot, the human scanned the writing that he had come to recognize. However, the size of the inscription made reading onerous. Nevertheless, the boy recited the text through squinted eyes.

"But, if straight the eyes do gaze," he started, the spell drawing out his voice like water from a well. "Endless shall be the maze…"

The words soaked into his mind, filling the empty crevices. Just as this lyric read, the youth had been focused entirely on the hallways directly before him. And, just as the phrase foretold, the winding maze continued on and on; no completion in sight. But if setting the eyes entirely on forward thinking and seeing was incorrect, what was the correct way of advancing?

Link allowed his fingers to softly trace the lettering; the characters intricate.

Once again, the nub he dwelled in unlocked more uncharted hallways. But the boy's mood was significantly brightened. Light shattered through the chagrin. He would not repeat the same error he had before.

These words were located upon the ground he trod. But it was not by coincidence. He allowed himself to think differently; therefore the answer had been located. Perhaps, if the answer to his current question was discovered upon the stony floor, it would lead to greater enlightenment?

Perhaps.

He would pursue this end until his speculation proved otherwise.

Grabbing his rudely discarded sword from the corner, Link pushed himself to his feet. But instead of raising his eyes, the youth peered at the ground. He read the words out-loud again.

"Forward the gaze, endless the maze."

The youth did not lift his blue irises. They were glued to the floor as he ventured into the newly discovered spaces. He did not move quickly. Instead, he took careful steps in order to wholly view the surface beneath his feet. As he did so, he added the new phrase to his collection.

"An honor it mislays; reveals the trodden way.

How grand shall be the prize, of pride it satisfies.

But, if straight the eyes do gaze, endless be the maze."

What was the subject of the poem? What concept possessed these attributes? Failure had to play a role; that was obvious. And most certainly the aim was of great reward. But, what was meant by the endless maze? What did it add? Link knew that if he didn't take the time to look from an alternative perspective, he would still be wandering in a circle. It would never end. Maybe the concept was nothing more than a cycle – going on and on unless it was broken?

He sidestepped corners.

His feet tapped brushed the rock.

It did not take long for the human to locate the next script. Just as he suspected, it was to be found upon the ground. The elegant writing stretched parallel to one of the many walls, though in much larger script. Link did not need to kneel to read it clearly.

"Fortune and a hefty goal, disguise the curse untold." He spoke. While such ambitions blinded the seeker, they were unsuspectingly bound by a curse. But the curse of the nameless concept still eluded the boy. However, he was getting closer.

Immediately following his reading, a crack split through the rocky floor. It started small, like frost at the corner of a window. It expanded, carving its toothed way over the polished stone. It traveled across the ground, jerking left and right. Link pursued it, doing his best to not step upon the broken slab. It was only a short distance down the hallway that the fissure would lead the human. It ended abruptly before yet another tall wall.

The next verse was added to the poem.

"Yet, if find the secret rift, the curse in turn shall lift," the hero spoke, his voice falling into a melodious rhythm.

Like clockwork, the stanza set into motion a mystic reaction. From the letters, numerous cracks began to form. They grew like weeds, choking the script. They worked their way from the floor and up the walls, marring its smooth surface. Like vines they crawled; higher and higher. Link's eyes followed the splits upward, observing in wonder. Pieces both small and large separated from the whole like a jigsaw. In no way were the rifts random, however. As they scaled the ramparts, they created a design.

The inverted triforce.

The triangle seized the substantial space of the wall. However, unlike the first appearance of the inverted symbol, the rightmost corner was exhibiting the greatest damage. The stone flaked from the area, deteriorating with every particle lost. The loss caused the triangle to appear devoid.

Through its cracks, the human was bombarded by an invisible vortex, the magnetic force tugging him closer. It saturated the air with rancor and retaliation.

Rancor and retaliation.

Whatever the youth was seeking dwelled behind this crumbling wall! He had found the end to the maze. It would take some effort to break through the barrier, but it could be done. The weakening spell of the latest lyric had weakened it extensively.

The rifts clawed for the ceiling. Link continued to watch. As they passed over to the adjacent surface, the jagged fissures spelled yet another phrase. The crooked letters were unattractive; even menacing. The brutal scrawl scratched at the boy's sight. Once again, voice rose from his chest and out of his mouth. The hero could not help himself.

"But, if cannot escape the grate; time cannot stand to weight," he read.

"Weight?" Link reiterated. Wasn't the correct word 'wait?'

Realization struck the human with a ruthless blow.

A monstrous thud boomed down the corridor, the ground shaking beneath the youth's feet. It shook as if a stampede of wild beasts had been released into the maze. But it was not a hoard of creatures that caused the din.

The ceiling was no longer being supported. It began to slide lower and lower; to meet the ground.

Link was to be crushed.

He could not move his legs, his limbs immovably rooted to the floor. His eyes widened with terror as the stone slab came down upon him. Cracks continued to spread, chunks of stone tumbling to the floor as if struck with a hammer.

The hero had to do something!

And swiftly. He could not afford to wait; just as time could not.

Thrusting his shoulder against the shattering wall, Link acted desperately to break through to the other side. The collision of his bone on the stone sent shockwaves through his nerves. He groaned at the sharp shock through his body.

Inch by inch the ceiling descended.

Gritting his teeth, the youth ran at the wall a second time. The result was identical to the first. He kicked at punched at the rampart, struggling with all his might. His furious actions quickened the wall's deterioration. Yet, it wasn't fast enough.

Lower.

Lower.

Link was running out of time.

He could sense the wall in its weakened state; wanting to give in to the human's aggressive abuse. Yet, it still refused to gape. Just as the slab was just short of opening, so too was the hero from solving the verse.

It was the only remaining task.

He had all of the clues.

Solving the riddle was his last chance. It's utterance would unleash the spell and hollow out the wall.

Link fell to his knees, his sword at his side. Digging his fingers into any crevices he could invade, he pulled at the loosened material. He had to get out.

He had to get out!

The ceiling loomed overhead, the weight bearing upon him.

'An honor it mislays; reveals the trodden way.'

It came about through failure.

'How grand shall be the prize, of pride it satisfies.'

It offered a reward of great measure; most of all to fulfill the desires of pride.

The human's eyes watered. Fear chased around his mind like a rabid dog.

'But, if straight the eyes do gaze, endless be the maze'

If you were unable to observe the grander scheme; tear your eyes from your treasure, you would never escape. It was only a cycle.

'Fortune and a hefty goal, disguise the curse untold.'

The promise of success was a façade.

The ceiling just above the hero's capped head.

'Yet, if find the secret rift, the curse in turn shall lift. If not to escape the grate; time cannot stand to weight.'

This was the rift; Link's way out.

What was the answer!?

The rancor and retaliation seeped through the fissures. The lost souls fed upon it like a ambrosial feast. They cried out to the youth. They had experienced the curse. They succumbed to the delights it offered. And while they were no longer of the living, they still endured the emotions of their breathing hours.

They were still cursed to cycle.

Ever still.

The solution snapped Link's thoughts into place.

Revenge.

Vengeance.

"Vengeance!" bellowed the blonde, his throat quaking.

The last bit of resistance the barricade clung to was no more. The stone broke apart in the boy's hands like dried leaves. He reached through a hole, his arm escaping into an empty chamber. Snatching his blade, he forced his arms through. Pushing aside the sediment, the blonde moved into the chasm with his head and shoulders. His torso and legs followed without hesitation.

Tumbling on his forearms, Link's feet exited the chaotic labyrinth. The manufactured exit was sealed by the ceiling, connecting with its forever opposite; the floor.

The blonde collapsed on his arms, propping his face to the side.

He had overlooked the importance of breathing.

**Author's Note:** Whoot whoot! There you go! Chapter 9 has been presented to you! And almost 5, 000 words! Dang! Quite a predicament the 'Hero of the Goddess' has found himself in! *1930's radio announcer voice* Link has managed to escape the impending doom of the first task. But, will the chosen hero evade Afentis's tightening grip? What terrors lie behind the two remaining trials? Stay tuned! *end announcer voice* I guess we will just have to wait and see! ^_^ But as always, thank-you for reading my story! I am so sorry for taking double the time I normally do to post a chapter. My record for posting on time is ruined! But I knew it wouldn't last…But I must say I really enjoyed creating rhymes for this chapter…if you couldn't tell already. Also, did anyone catch my reference to a song by The Doors? Anyone? Well if not, that's okay. XD When I wrote it I couldn't help but laugh to myself. I sometimes think me a hilarious person (A lot of song references this time around). But anyhow, please leave me a review and let me know what you think! I love hearing from you! But remember the Golden Rule!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone, and welcome to the tenth installment of _The Bane_. Tenth? TENTH?! Holy crap, we are really on the tenth chapter. Now, this is a bit of a milestone for me as a writer with this account. I haven't gotten up to ten chapters in quite a long time! Even with other stories I have written, few have gotten this far (usually because I get burned out or there is no longer any interest). But here we are! Thanks a ton for all of the reviews (I am sounding like a broken record) for the reviews for the last chapter! I am very pleased that you enjoyed it! Also, I am terribly sorry for taking so long with this addition. Life has been busy, not to mention having a writer's block! A nasty combination if I do say so myself.

**Alerts:** I am not an owner of the Zelda franchise, or any of its parts.

**Extra:** Thank-you Skyward Diamond for giving my story a shout-out! That was very kind of you to do so! There are many authors here that deserve attention for their hard work (Skyward Diamond a fantastic example of such). They enjoy writing, and love to see their efforts received! So please keep an eye out!

_The Bane_

Chapter 10

The trembling floor still shook through Link's bones; the crumbling ramparts an immeasurable din within his mind. The chaos had begun so quickly. Within the blink of an eye, all matter began to collide. The utterance of a singular phrase had caused the destruction of the labyrinth.

The power of the spoken word was as mighty as the elements of the earth. The letters were as water, carving the symbols from the stone like a river from the bedrock. The syllables uttered were shafts in a whirlwind. The human's cries of despair were drowned out by the thunderous roar of the foundations. However, just as language showered bedlam upon the hero, so too had it given a route of escape.

Vengeance pierced through the cacophony like lightening.

The boy inhaled the musty air of his momentary sanctuary. The strain he had so forcefully exerted moments prior had stolen valuable energy. He was rendered without strength, his figure limp like a piece of string. However, these ailments were of comfort. These pains signaled to the life that beat in the hero's chest. He had not passed so far as to separate from his mortal shell.

He was alive.

With his cheek pressed upon his folded arms, Link released the tension in his limbs. His muscles slackened. He sighed into the ground, allowing a slight smile grace his mouth. It was a hopeful expression. Like an old friend, it returned to him after an eternity of absence. He welcomed it with eagerness.

The blonde offered inner gratitude. He gave thanks to the creators in their remote spaces, to Hylia and her infinite wisdom, to Fi and her guidance. The boy would not accept the glory as his own, but share it with those who had begun turning the wheel of his destiny. However, at the core, it would be Link who would decide the paths he would travel; the places he would go.

He would travel the darker trails ahead.

Groaning into the crook of his arm, the hero attempted to raise his head. His skull had been replaced by a lead weight, his neck struggling to lift it. Link winced inwardly. Slowly, his blue eyes shifted from the floor to the space before him. He allowed his sights to wander freely.

The room the youth slipped into was empty. No other soul dwelled within the confines. The eyes of the multitudes were gone; shut out from the location they so longed to venture. Their tortured spirits could no longer overwhelm the hero; distract him with their stifling emotions.

However, this was not the only change the boy took notice of. The hero could only feel the watchful eye of Afentis, her focus entirely placed upon him. Not even Ghirahim was allowed to witness his actions. The intimacy Link shared with Afentis engulfed the room. They were to share in the privacy of the moment.

The blonde supposed Ghirahim would be enduring a degree of dissatisfaction. After all, the Demon Lord had maintained a close watch over Link – until now. Also, it was manifest that the demon was not fond of the mystic. His harsh criticism of her was enough to evidence to come to that conclusion. For whatever reason, he detested even the thought of her.

If Link were to receive an audience with her, all would likely be explained on that subject.

The chamber was slightly larger than the boy's room at the Skyloft Academy. Though infinitely less cluttered, the dimensions created a mood of confidentiality. Bricks were crafted from dark stone, polished to gleam like a spilled pot of ink. Built from these blocks were walls that competed with the height of trees. The parapets supported a vaulted ceiling, its curvature folding into a dramatic point.

Time, with its fingers of decay held no sway over this place.

Little embellishment covered the walls. Only the barrier opposite the human received decorative attention. Nooks imitating the immaculate ceiling were shaped into the wall on the right and left. Seductive violet flames flickered within their concave alcoves. They crackled and popped lazily, their hues swirling across the glossy stone like constellations.

Three smooth steps led to this partition, their lengths interceded by the adjacent walls. And, positioned centermost on the raised floor was a recognizable obsidian pedestal. Floating inches above its top was an amethyst jewel.

It beckoned him.

Come forward.

Pressing his palms against the cool floor, Link struggled to stand. His muscles raged in protest, not having received sufficient time to recover. Nevertheless, the youth's limbs obeyed. He brought his knees forward, just beneath his chest. His thighs burned. Ensuring his balance, Link pushed himself to his full height, brushing the particles that clung to his woolen tunic. He left his sword on the ground.

With his eyes locked upon the jewel, Link approached the pedestal. His feet made no sound upon the steps, the audio consumed by the surrounding shadow.

The flames licked their stone umbrellas, washing the blonde's face in an opaque glow. Afentis observed curiously.

The plinth was the height of Link's chest; easy for him to caress its top with his hands. The gem levitated gingerly, bobbing like an apple dropped in a bucket of water.

Upon closer inspection, the amethyst had been cut into a triangle, equal on each side. Exquisitely crafted, it was unmatched by any skill that could be found on the surface. The convex angles gleamed, flashing in the boy's wondering irises.

This was the prize of the labyrinth. The prize of vengeance.

Link drew his right hand to his chest, no longer allowing it to hang casually at his side. He folded his fingers neatly into his palm like fresh linens. His heart thumped beneath his ribs; a cage of flesh and bone. The venom burned with desire – in the presence of equally powerful magic. 'Take it,' it murmured.

Take it.

The boy's lips parted.

Many had failed to surpass the task. Link was one of few who had discovered the secret of the maze. He deserved to remove the jewel from its isolated place. He deserved it. But, this voice in his mind was not his own. It was not his true nature.

The jewel conversed with his heart; a silent communion. It examined the smallest details, scanning for hints of revenge.

After a life of teasing and ridicule, was retaliation not justified? The remarks of sarcasm and contempt were never provoked. They were undeserved. The only way the wounds of childhood would heal, was only through the satisfaction of revenge.

Through vengeance.

His heart pounded vigorously.

And what of Ghirahim – the Demon Lord? He above all others deserved the hero's vengeful indignation. The demon had influenced the human like a marionette, tugging him whichever direction he preferred. Yet, more than that, Ghirahim had threatened the lives of those Link loved. This caused the greatest anger.

Take it.

The blonde tightened his hand, contemplating the silent exchange.

He could not deny the emotions that swelled within his breast; to repay those for the harm they had knowingly caused. It was a foundation of human emotion; whether of love, fury, or grief. The individual longs to share their innermost passions – to be bound to others.

Regarding the Demon Lord in this way, painted him as less than a foe. The human in the short time he had spent with Ghirahim, shared a companionship. They were bound together by their universal aspiration to serve their leaders.

Bound by the 'Thread of Fate.'

Link scratched the thought. He had nothing in common with the demon. And yet, the boy did not deny their intertwining destinies.

The gem glinted bewitchingly.

Persuasion displayed retaliation as a sweet fruit; it's outer skin ripe. It waited for one who would sink their teeth into its vibrant outer peel. But, behind its tantalizing façade was a rotten core. Its bitter flavor was indigestible. It would weaken those who partook of its deception. From the inside it would break them down until they too, were rotten inside.

No, Link would not give vengeance the chance to corrupt what he knew to be right. To lose oneself to the winding ways of hate would lead only to a worsening fate. He would lose sight of what was good. He was already lost in a realm of horrors. He could not bear to lose himself – lose everything.

He would not remove the gem for his own benefit. He was a servant of the Goddess. To be called by her was to disregard personal gain for the greater benefit of humankind. He would bear the burden.

Pulling his hand from his chest, the youth stretched it forth. His fingers were steady, renewed by his sense of duty.

He did not blink.

His first finger stroked the edge of the amethyst. The jewel was smoldering like a coal.

Without warning, the mineral erupted. With an earsplitting crash, the stone shattered into countless pieces. A torrent of smoke billowed upwards, released by the gem.

Link stepped back, guarding his face with a folded arm.

The curling steeple of ash fumed like the flames of the Eldin Volcano, pouring gas and heat into the air. The twinkling pieces of the mineral were swallowed within the surge. They sparkled like stars. The smoke sounded like insect wings. Round and round the tempest continued, until its top had nearly reached the ceiling's point.

The heat was blistering against the youth's arm. He stepped back again, his heels on the edge of the steps. Link did not understand.

Then, a voice escaped the spire of smoke. It was direct, filling the hero's pointed ears. It was the voice of a woman.

It was Afentis.

"Hero of the Goddess…" she spoke with command.

Link lowered his limb from his eyes. He watched the tornado as it turned in place.

"Creature of the surface, and of light…" she continued. Her tone was not of a young maid, but rich and boisterous. Like stained glass, it was of great depth though little was revealed through its semblance.

The human did not speak. Addressing himself to the Master of the Hall was not required. She already knew who he was. He waited for her voice to spill more words from the smoke.

"I have seen your heart…" she stated clearly. Link did not hear the spinning ash, feel the heat on his flesh. Afentis' voice had him enraptured.

Images appeared within the smoky pillar. The human saw the shapes of wings, the feathers of his beloved Crimson Loftwing. The floating islands of his home above the clouds whirled before his eyes, the faces of those left behind at home. He watched Zelda's laughing expression go by. It felt as if an eternity had passed since he had seen such memories of happiness.

Yet, they were reflections only; shades of their true likeness.

Link closed his eyes, as if to remember a half forgotten dream. His lashes caressed his cheeks.

"I have seen your heart…" she said again. "And it is kind…"

"Kind…" Link reiterated aloud. He had never looked within himself in such a way – never esteeming himself above others. Opening his eyes again, he scanned the turbulent tower.

"Hero of the Goddess…"

As swiftly as the pillar had arrived, so too did it vanish.

The column of ash and smoke retracted on itself. The matter was pulled towards an invisible vortex above the stand – sucked into the spot like a whirlpool. The broken pieces of the jewel were tugged into it as well.

The human stood still, inhaling only.

The smoke was tightened into an orb, the fragments of amethyst reassembling around it. It hovered in its original spot above the dais.

With a flash of violet light, the triangle was complete. Fusing together every shard, the gem appeared to never experience damage. It was as flawless. However, it no longer benefited from weightlessness.

Wrangled by the ropes of gravity, the mineral tumbled from mid-air. Clinking on the obsidian pedestal, the jewel came to rest.

The chamber resumed its previous silence, the alcoves' fire continuing to crackle. Link's arms hung at his sides. Absorbing what he had just seen, the hero skimmed around the room. Afentis had given the boy an assessment of his character – her judgment.

His eyes landed upon the amethyst. He looked over it with mild apprehension. Like a frightened animal, it should be regarded with caution. Even if the advances were in good nature, the response of the beast was difficult to gauge. Would it act out in aggression, or accept with warmness?

Link approached the stand once more. Looking down at the prize, he circled his fingers around it. It no longer scorched, but took on the temperature of ice. It was the size of his palm, his appendages easily grasping about it. He held it delicately, though there was little chance it would break if handled roughly.

It had become another stone. The magic did not speak to his heart as it had done before. Vengeance had fallen into a slumber within it.

Link put the jewel into his tunic pocket, the cold seeping through his garment and onto his skin. Turning around, he descended the steps. From his entrance to the room, a new archway had developed. The same wisps of fog were a curtain within the open area.

Walking towards it, the human leaned down to pick up his sword.

With one step, Link entered the doorway. The familiar sensation wrapped around him.

Neither evil nor benign.

The main hall met the returning youth as he stepped through the doorway. Its lonesome spaces echoed through the hollow of time – having witnessed centuries. However, while it had passed through the changes each year bequeathed, the mystic's domain had experienced miniscule adjustment. The only modifications were the souls of weaker beings that were added to Afentis' collection.

The misty curtain released its hold on the hero. Once fully present within the expansive hall, the archway transformed. Like water to steam, the obsidian sank to the floor in a column of smoke. Accompanying the matter of the ground, it curled around the youth's ankles. Even if he desired, Link would be unable to re-enter the labyrinth or chamber of vengeance again.

Ghirahim was not seated on the pedestal as he once was. Patiently waiting upon the will of another was not an enterprise the demon regarded highly. Unless he was in control of the situation on the other hand, he delighted in keeping others in suspense.

The absence of the Demon Lord troubled the blonde. Link did not share the demon's adoration of ambuscade. The hero was always on the receiving end.

It was only a matter of time before he would strike.

The pedestal hadn't moved, awaiting the first item. Having procured the frosty jewel, Link headed to it straightway. The coldness in his pocket was growing uncomfortable against his skin.

Not two feet from the platform, the Demon Lord made his appearance. Like a ghost ship on the stormy sea, he became clear. From where he had concealed himself was not known.

"Well, well," Ghirahim spoke in sultry tones. "Miraculously, you have accomplished the first trial. Needless to say, I am astounded that you were able to return in a single piece!"

The hair on Link's neck prickled. The Demon Lord was only a few feet behind him. The youth continued ahead to stand before the pedestal. The power that circled the plinth had risen at the presence of the gem. It wanted to be restored to its consummate glory.

"Yes," the hero replied frigidly. The demon's words were utilized for the sole purpose to berate. Ghirahim had been audience to Link's success within the maze; it was no mystery that he had succeeded. Link slipped his hand into his pocket, his fingers gingerly stroking the amethyst's cold edges.

"But of course," Ghirahim added, closing in like a cat upon a helpless bird. "When pursuing any degree of triumph, a lackadaisical attitude will only work as a hindrance. Your effort clearly attests to such puerility."

Link's blood boiled, his heart contracting sharply. He had not been apathetic in his efforts. He immersed himself wholly. Very few were able to endure trials without scrapes and bruises. However, the hero did not need the praise of a being so cruel in his remarks.

So, why did the demon's lack of approval stir anger within Link's heart?

"However, your performance as you clamored on your knees was made up for your unauthentic performance…" the demon continued, leaning over the blonde. "Tell me, how frequently do you express yourself in such a vocal way? Surely not _only_ in consternation? For I would delight in hearing the range your vocal chords could achieve."

The boy did not warrant the demon's question with an answer. He could not help his cheeks from tinting a warm shade of pink. The Demon Lord was rarely subtle in his strange intrigues and perversions.

Clasping the jewel, Link pulled it from its temporary case. The youth lifted it above the pedestal. Like a water droplet, the mineral fell from his hold. It was captured in the unseen magical force, floating within the enchanted field like a fish imprisoned in a glass container.

One-third closer to completion.

"I am not alone in my enjoyment of your vocal expressions," Ghirahim continued, "Her poetic locutions were undoubtedly created just for you…such a pity that your improvement in rules of parlance is minor at best." Reaching out, the demon twirled the lose strands of hair at the base of the Link's neck.

"As you insult me," Link spat, smacking away the demon's invasive hand; unclear why his hair held any interest for him. "I think you're the one who doesn't understand appropriate conversation."

Clamping onto the youth's shoulder like the claws of a tiger, Ghirahim jerked the boy backward. Replacing his hand with his skilled arms, the demon roped them around Link's collarbone and waist. He crushed the hero's shoulders into his neck.

Link was fixed in place. He grimaced.

"Insufferable, little sky-child…" the Demon Lord hissed between his teeth. "And yet, you manage to be the most exceptional of your kind. Truly calamitous."

"I'm not the greatest of my kind," Link stated defiantly, squeezing his sword's hilt.

"As always, you are the humblest of gentlemen," Ghirahim sniggered into the boy's ear. Link's heart thudded. "There is no need for you to be so modest. You have seized the full attention of Afentis, even if it is falsely given. Tell me, what secrets did she reveal to you when my eyes were blinded? With her new-found infatuation, I am certain she was _incredibly_ loquacious."

'I have seen your heart, and it is kind.'

Link's lips parted to speak. He saw the plume of burning ash, the shadows of those things he cherished most. He longed to be surrounded by those sensations of peace – the soft feathers between his fingers, the sunlight glowing on his face, the winds that rushed by. It was a youthful bliss.

But that moment was not seen by the Demon Lord. It was an instant that was between him and Afentis. She had prevented the demon from witnessing her speak; she told the hero what was in his heart in confidence. It was by no accident.

"It isn't your business. And if I'm so unworthy, why do you have to keep such a close watch over me?"

The demon growled. Link had found a sore spot.

"Your value isn't based on your prowess," Ghirahim scoffed.

Removing his arms like rope-like bonds, he let go of the hero. Link could feel his blood return to cut-off areas of his body. He rubbed his shoulder with his sword-free hand. Again, his significance was measured by the light he held inside himself.

"You are far too trusting, sky-child," remarked the demon, running his hand through his silvery locks.

"And what makes you trustworthy?" Link shot back, looking over his shoulder.

Ghirahim's devilish smirk spread across his mouth as he sidestepped to the left. The youth's heartbeat increased.

"I never claimed such a characteristic," he mused, circling the pedestal.

The hero glared at the stand, frustrated at his own naivety. His experience with the demon only pointed to dishonesty. But, Link had to rely on the Demon Lord. If he didn't, who knows what would have been the course of his fate.

Surely, he would be worse off. But such a predicament was hard to compare when cursed to travel with such a heinous foe.

Glancing from beneath his golden fringe, the youth observed Ghirahim. The demon had a feline way about him, the details of his movements languid. Link noted the way his fingers glided over the surface of the plinth and how quickly they could become violent. The fluidity of his glances, even his deadly smile possessed a cat-like quality. No one could read him.

It put the boy on edge – in a state of continuous apprehension or even excitement. Exactly what the Demon Lord aimed for.

The thought made the blonde uncomfortable, his heart throbbing. Flicking his eyes away from his dark companion, Link set his concentration on the prize.

It twirled and turned.

What did it mean – vengeance? The human pondered its meaning, dissecting it bit by bit.

Of course, vengeance was an action; to seek restitution when property has been taken. Whether it was a material of wealth or sentiment, or of honor and confidence, it did not transform the features of the word.

Also, the cracking stone of the inverted Triforce placed vengeance in direct opposition to the Triforce of courage. Underlying concepts were at work.

Regarding courage, its purpose was to strengthen and inspire both the individual and a group for the cause of good. It was bestowed upon the races of the world to protect those who could not protect themselves. Courage was also faith in the face of the black hole of uncertainty – in the existence of fear. It was noble, steadfast, and kind.

Kind.

'I have seen your heart, and it is kind,' spoke the words again.

For vengeance, it was the product of the ego. While it may wear different masks, it was never more than a gratuitous self-service. To fulfill the goals it so desperately sought after, those who crossed its path would be sacrificed to its rage; the underbrush in the way of a rush of fire. Not only that, but the individual engulfed in the chosen path would place themselves on the alter to be devoured by wrath and hate.

But, why vengeance when so many other forms that emphasized animosity existed?

He was reminded of the Skykeep. Within its puzzle-filled rooms, each of the three pieces of the Triforce was located. The human brought them together, uniting their strength at what he thought then to be the end of his journey. It was the ultimate symbol of righteousness. In the Hall of Afentis, this task was mirrored. Only, its dangers outweighed those within the temple in the sky. Would the pieces come together in an ultimate symbol of evil?

While Link was encompassed in his expanding thoughts, he still could sense Ghirahim's black eyes upon him. They seared into him as they had done from the beginning. The demon was reading his actions like an old scroll.

"Vengeance – the ceaseless cycle of acrimony. The raw emotion it draws from its followers is unlike any other," Ghirahim elucidated. "Over time it wraps the individual in a cocoon, to become a stranger of the former self. Such a jewel can only hardly represent its richness."

Link's eyes shot up, locking with his demonic guide.

"You already knew what it was?" Link inquired incredulously. But that wasn't a thoughtful question. If only he could retract his statement.

"Your stupor is shameful. Of course I knew of its meaning. I am no simpleton. This a world that I am as familiar with as my shadow blade."

The human glared at the villain's chest, withholding the spirited words that threated to tumbled from his tongue. He had to maintain his composure when he was physically exhausted. If he already knew what the gem represented, what other knowledge had he kept out of arms reach?

"Surely there are questions that abound in that childish brain of yours. Are you not going to inquire of my vast wisdom?" the demon teased, deliberately caressing the frigid amethyst with long strokes.

"No, I'm not." Link bluntly replied.

Turning away, the hero walked away from the obsidian stand and from Ghirahim. He would not be led astray by the wiles of the demon. He already verbally stated that he could not be trusted. Link would not rely on him more than was absolutely necessary.

Even if the Demon Lord could sense his inner cacophony.

He approached the remaining two arches, peering into their empty doorways. He did not want to waste time being toyed with.

Which to enter next?

He stepped unhurriedly, sensing the spirits beyond the barriers.

Ghirahim chuckled mischievously, following the human in his perusal. He wandered between the two doorways, slinking like a cat in a secluded alleyway. The mist clung to his feet, dragging along as if he moved through water.

"Come now," the Demon Lord tantalized. "You mean to insinuate that you do not wish to comprehend what is to come? Would it not ease your burden?"

Link stood before the rightmost arch. He felt strongly that it was the next trial he was to endure. But it did not feel the same as vengeance. It was subdued, a vague hungering. The demon weaved around the same arch, wrapping his arm around its circumference. He leaned against it seductively.

The human closed his eyes, taking the bait.

"Fine. Tell me." He responded hotly.

"That is, unless you want to maintain some semblance of integrity. This is after all, your test, not mine."

Link growled in the back of his throat.

"I'll figure it out on my own," he replied in frustration.

Ghirahim smiled widely, his white teeth gleaming. Link clamped down on his jaw.

"However," he replied sweetly. "I shall offer you this bit of information before you embark."

Moving with blinding speed, the Demon Lord darted between the human and the waiting arch. The demon with his feline elegance grasps the boy's free arm. His long fingers tangled about the boy's forearm like grappling vines. Jerking the boy close, Ghirahim leaned forward, his ghostly face smiling. Link blinked in disbelief, though his heart dropped in ominous knowing. His breath was frozen in his throat.

"The prize that is hidden within the coming trial, is a favorite of mine…"

Forcing Link's palm to face upwards, the Demon Lord placed his gloved fingers at the crook of the human's thumb and forefinger. With precision and excellent execution as if he were handling his dark blade, Ghirahim cut through the leather of Link's gauntlet and skin of his palm. The brown leather peeled wide, ripping apart like the skin of a ripened fruit to expose the fragile flesh beneath. Link's flesh stood no chance. Scarlet blood flooded from the wound.

Afentis watched.

The shade is the most beautiful in the entire material world.

The hero gasped loudly, the sound a mixture of pain and disgust. Wrenching his arm free, Link reeled back to prevent any further assault. With his blood boiling, the youth gazed upon Ghirahim with eyes wide and burning. The demon's expression was one of satisfaction, though within his cold eyes was found a festering hunger.

The Demon Lord's glove was coated with Link's glossy red blood; stark against the white material. Drawing his fingers to his avaricious lips, Ghirahim tasted the human's life force. His tongue flicked deliberately over the tips of his appendages; as if to taunt the chosen hero as well as Afentis.

"You know…" Ghirahim smirked, "I do believe that the shade of your blood is the most enticing and resplendent in the entirety of the material world."

The human could stand the Demon Lord's taunting no longer. Closing his bloody hand into a defiant fist, Link shoved past the demon and through into the next archway. His mind was racing – his heart's crushing presence a tightening disturbance. He needed to get away physically away from the Demon Lord.

Before he would do something rash.

"If your performance is as lackluster as your first, perhaps you should reconsider coming back at all," Ghirahim mocked at Link's back.

Auth**or's Note:** Thank heavens for movie soundtracks! I swear, if it wasn't for music I would stay stuck in a state without inspiration! It can really get me into a focus where I can write with greater ease. This time around, it was the soundtrack to the newest movie adaption of _Jane Eyre. _I really shouldn't try to write without the right music…it can throw me off big time! But anyhow, thank-you for checking out the tenth chapter! I thought it wouldn't be this long, maybe about 2,500 words…clearly I was wrong. I was going to go straight into the next task, but my plans changed. I am sorry for the complications…I just really hit a brick wall, having to start from scratch. But that's all done now (I apologize if it isn't up to par)! And Ghirahim just likes to up the ante with his really creepy nature. I find Ghirahim to be loose with everything; daring to do things no one else would dream of just for the sake of disturbing and controlling – Link happening to be his primary victim. But anyway, Link has completed the first task...what else shall he learn!? Please let me know what you think, I love hearing from you! Have a fabulous day!


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Hello again! I present to you the eleventh installment of _The Bane_. For your appetizer, I would like to thank all of the reviews that I received for the previous chapter. There were quite a few anonymous reviews, but some I could tell who you were without you needing to sign in. ^_^ But whether you are a regular reviewer or new, I thank-you! Also, I hope those who are just readers are enjoying it too! I am glad that you guys are interested in the way these trials are panning out. I love the guesses I've seen! Also, I'm glad you enjoyed the little ending of the chapter. I know it has been a long time coming in terms of more romantic (even though that word really doesn't describe their relationship…) interactions between Link and Ghirahim. All of you have been very patient. But I hope as well that the story gives you a bit more to dine on! And can I just say, that I hate writing with people in the room. It doesn't matter if I'm writing a paper or an email…I just don't like people looking over my shoulder! Gah!

**Alerts: **I do not own The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, nor any of the canon characters. As time goes on, I will make up my own which will belong to me…but no one will likely want to steal those!

**Extra:** So I don't know why, but there was a song I listened to when writing this chapter that for some reason fit…you may not agree, which is completely fine. But I had this song pretty much on repeat! It is called "Violet Rays" by The Smashing Pumpkins. Check it out on Youtube!

_The Bane_

Chapter 11

Link shoved past the Demon Lord in heated bewilderment. Even the brushing of their shoulders evoked a grotesque objection – though it could not compare to the horror that just transpired. As the human darted into the blanketing mist, Ghirahim's voice nipped at his heels like the teeth of a shepherding dog. But in truth, the words never reached the hero's ears.

'The prize that is hidden within the coming trial," Ghirahim had murmured "…is a personal favorite of mine.'

As the demon encircled his fingers around the boy's forearm; squeezing the sore muscle and feeling the pulsing blood, Link was at a loss for why he had failed to act; to remove himself from the situation. The Demon Lord was apt to break boundaries; both physical and psychological. But the fluidity and execution with which the demon performed such invasions were so sudden that the human's thoughts were unable to keep in time. Intimacy was as foreign to him as the demonic script Ghirahim had recited at the doorstep. But the demon had only tried to get under the hero's skin – of that Link was certain.

It was repulsive.

It was disquieting.

And yet…thrilling. Just as Ghirahim's voice recited the demonic script at Afentis's doorstep, Link could not pull his sights away.

The blonde's heart thudded in his chest, his thoughts a chaotic blur. The Demon Lord's attempt to aggravate was successful. But even more so, the demon had stimulated a beast deep in the caverns of his heart. If not for the Nandu's venom, the human would have continued with little thought on the matter. However, the beasts within the recesses of his heart were prompted by the darkness to crawl from their isolated holes.

Out in the open.

Raised in Skyloft, virtue and moral diligence was upheld as a sacred duty. To remain untarnished by self-motivated intentions was to accept a higher standard set forth by Hylia herself. Dedication to her law would lead to ultimate happiness. But such moral persistence was continually met with fierce opposition. Link had pushed against these aspects of human nature as the goddess had so directed with general ease. But even the human mind wonders; wanders. And with his heart inflicted by his own darkness, Link feared what cravings would drive him to act against his trust in the goddess.

Ghirahim with his expression draped in satisfaction, behind those cold eyes that smoldered with carnivorous hunger lurked a great knowing. Once again, Link was unnerved by the uncanny ability of the Demon Lord to guess his innermost thoughts – conflict and all. Very few were able to detect the raw emotions behind his serene façade. Until now, Zelda had been the sole owner of such talents. But Ghirahim had obtained the skill with little effort.

More so than his childhood friend.

It would only be the start of the bond created by the string of destiny.

Yet, why? Why the Demon Lord?

Ghirahim.

The familiar fog engulfed every part of Link's body in vague neutrality. A cloudy veil pressed on his eyes, whisking away the sensations of the main hall and the stinging of his hand. Though the wound was not deep, the edges of the wound simmered. He was not a member of the previous space or of the next, but a member of limilality. As he moved through the smoky barrier, Link blinked against the images just out of reach. He inhaled. He needed to calm his still pattering heart. It was a needless distraction.

Closer came the end of the haze. As if dust had been wiped away from a wood table, the human saw the room with greater definition. More apparent was the mood of hunger and insatiable yearning. Link would soon be the spectacle of many sights. The eyes of the _others._

At once, the misty tendrils released Link from their hold, unable to follow him. The entrance sealed itself as the human exited.

The hero drew in a breath, his eyes unable to wholly take in the new space. His grip on the bokoblin's weapon had loosened in response.

The chamber was enormous.

Unlike the labyrinth of vengeance with its twisting corridors, the second room was as open as a meadow. It bore no resemblance to the first trial.

Where the blonde had entered, he stood on the top level of a mammoth stone amphitheater. The stone seats were empty, but the hero knew that the inaudible souls were in attendance. With stone from the same quarry as the maze, manufactured steps descended before the youth. It flowed like a fountain from the top, meeting at the lowest level of the room. This section was the focal point. It mimicked the spherical design of the chamber's outer edges. Once more, an unidentifiable light source lit the chamber, casting shadows over the angled slabs. Overhead, the ceiling domed as if inflated like a child's balloon.

Link could sense the thick gloom that wafted below. It was distinct from vengeance. Sorrow was the overriding emotion. The souls that were trapped within this task were drowning; floundering in a sea of inadequacy. No matter how hard they tried to swim against the current, they were dragged beneath the crushing waves. They choked on their detrimental ambitions.

While the cause of these downtrodden feelings was still out of reach, the human's mind sifted through them. Like an ancient artifact he inspected every conceivable perspective. Though Link was dismayed at the reminder of Ghirahim's offensive assault, he could not help but take the demon's puzzling words into account.

What had he meant? He stated that the coming trial possessed his most favorite of characteristics.

"Only before…" the hero whispered to himself. He shook his head furiously, growling at his letting the demon toy with him. He did not want to appear affected within the all-seeing gaze of Afentis, not to mention the Demon Lord.

What was the demon's most preferential attribute? That was difficult to decipher, considering that Ghirahim relished in many undesirable characteristics. He was devious, his mischievous words disguising the cunning that rested behind them. Was cunning among the elements of the inverted Triforce?

Deception?

Taking a determined pace forward, the youth placed his foot firmly upon the first step.

Also, Ghirahim was a creature of seduction. With his attractive words he would speak falsehoods to charm whoever he pleased. But the Demon Lord did not only use the power of speech, but of the body as well. He acted in such a fashion to take whatever he coveted.

Or, whoever he coveted.

Seduction was a weapon.

The human descended several more steps, the light tapping of his feet bouncing in his ears.

And what of the demon's adoration of violence and bloodshed? Ghirahim held little regard for the living. Only if the creature was of use did he spare it from death. But, if his discontent was awakened he would exact a punishment most profane. He was not a man of mercy. He was heartless and cruel – a purveyor of hate. Was hate a sister to vengeance?

A few more steps.

Link's heart tingled. Inhaling slowly, he kept the unnatural thoughts at bay. Though as time went on, distinguishing the venom's influence from his thoughts had become problematic.

He went deeper and deeper into the crushing abyss of paucity and woe. It washed over his head; his body completely emerged in the swirling sadness. But unlike the cries of those trapped by vengeance, the souls were forcibly silenced. Link only sensed their helplessness.

In no time, the youth had reached the bottom of the room. The blonde could travel the level's circumference in eight paces. He took notice of a silver structure, the shape reminiscent of a bird bath. It was the height of a child, perhaps seven or eight. Cracks spread from the silver structure's base like roots. He did not see these details from his original vantage point.

He moved closer.

The basin's depth was only two inches, the shallow nature more like that of a dinner plate. Where it lacked deepness it compensated in size. The dish opened up like the petals of a flower, its outer rim wide. The precious metal gleamed with superior craftsmanship, exhibiting no sign of negligence. Upon the rim were placed three bottles, surrounding the center it like a crescent moon.

No taller than three inches, the clear bottles had narrow necks with robust bottoms. Their curvaceous figures were similar to a pear. Within each, clear liquid possessing no unique qualities in hue awaited. Preserving the freshness of the contents was a crystal stopper. It was shaped like a rose bud not yet bloomed.

Link narrowed his eyes. What sort of puzzle had Afentis created for him with such elegant items? With the exception of the expansive room, it lacked the imposing nature of the first trial. Perhaps the mystic determined that a straightforward approach would suffice?

Sliding his weapon between his belt and woolen tunic, Link approached the basin's edge. Gripping the rim on the right and left, he peered into the bottom. A thin layer of water covered the cavity, motionless like the dawn. Afentis' recognizable script had been etched into the silvery curve, the letters like ribbons. Also, the inverted Triforce was engraved into the dish. The rightmost triangle was chiseled out.

"The Triforce of Wisdom…" Link remarked to himself. The second characteristic was in opposition to wisdom.

Wisdom was seeking knowledge for the sake of knowing. It also gave way to great insight into the world and its workings. Many individuals that Link had encountered owned knowledge. Impa was a fine example of such sagacity. However, humans did not possess the vast wells of gen like Faron, Eldin, Lanaryu, and Levias – the ancient guardians of the world. Their understanding was not for the purpose of serving themselves, but the subjects they protected.

Regarding courage, it was in opposition to vengeance, though not directly. They shared the same roots, like that of a tree. They branched off in different directions. It must be similar for wisdom. The idea presented Link with yet another question: What could the opposite of wisdom be in the realm of demons?

Turning his attention to the splendid script, the hero could not help but read them aloud. After all, Afentis had made clear her desire to hear the human speak. As before, the utterance was drawn from him like a bucket from a well.

"'Tis empty of the contents, and waits for you to pour," Read the boy "Guess from what is given, receive the great reward."

The human blinked in surprise. Was that all that was required to pass the second trial? Link had barely escaped the labyrinth of vengeance. To simply answer riddles after such an arduous task was perplexing—unless aspects of the mind were to be tested.

"Maybe…" Link regarded.

Glancing to the left, the sparkling bottle inches from his fingers caught his eye. Its dazzling figure beckoned to be touched. Link reached out to it, running his forefinger across the cool exterior.

The _others_ sighed, sending a shiver down the length of the youth's back. They wanted to be in his position – near to the prize they pined for. Circling his fingers around the decanter, Link lifted it from the rim. It soothed his calloused flesh, fittingly seamlessly into the curve of his palm. He stroked it with his thumb.

Open it, his heart urged.

Open it, the souls moaned.

Sighing in defeat, the blonde took the rose bud between his members. With the delicacy of a gentleman, he removed it. As the stopper escaped the hole, a strange aroma drifted free. It caressed the boy's lips, filling his lungs with a sweet scent that could not be placed. It was as enchanting as a mellifluous melody, as saccharine as any ripened fruit. The youth could not help but breathe it in; wonder, and want more.

Tipping the bottle above the basin, Link allowed the contents to drip from the mouth. Slow at first, the liquid trickled into the dish. As it collided with the still surface of the water, it flashed vibrant hues of gold and bronze. Like clouds, the colors drifted through the pool.

With the last drop, clarity transformed into an endless horizon. Like paint, images swirled within the cavity. Link's blue eyes watched as depictions materialized, utterly transfixed by the beauty. The dimness of the chamber around him faded away as he was drawn to the basin. The attending souls traveled with him in his intrigue, as did the sight of the Demon Lord and Afentis.

He was spellbound.

Wealth of untold price glittered in the boy's eyes. Material possessions of affluence danced within the pool. Precious gems adorned the slender necks and wrists of demons. Chalices of gold and silver were raised to the heavens in celebratory toasts, meeting the avaricious lips of the possessor. He heard boisterous laughter, their voices clanking like their precious goblets.

Such exquisiteness caressed the boy's heart. He wondered how demons lived to enjoy such excess. He had never seen such wealth.

The human perceived the value the demons placed upon prosperity; the desire to own all they could latch onto. Because of their want, they sought after wilder and grander belongings.

More and more.

"Never enough…" whispered Link.

No matter what fineness came within their possession, their wandering eyes were far away. Though their bodies were bathed in gold, their palaces filled to the brim, the monster of voracity increased within their hearts. Their covetousness was insatiable. It occupied every waking moment – an obsession.

The images clearly illustrated greed. But, the youth had difficulty pulling his sights away. His heart wished to witness more; the spell capturing his mind. The preoccupation was spreading to him.

But what good would material wealth serve? With love and trust, what need was there of gold and silver? The human felt the obsession dissipate.

"It's greed…" the blonde at last spoke, the _others_ spying over his sloping shoulders.

As the word passed his ample lips, the golden imaginings faded into obscurity. It left the basin's pool as untarnished. However, a new inscription had been writ across the base. Link rubbed his temple with his right hand. He felt disoriented, like he had awoken from a dream. The magic of greed had affected him more than he would have guessed.

"Strange…" he said.

Proceeding, Link read the passage in the dish.

"A pin-prick of desire, for worldly treasures great," he read "Of pleasure and of beauty, from others strive to take."

The lyric described what the basin had shown with immense accuracy. The power of avarice only had regard for itself. It continually fixed its eyes upon the opulence of others. While the hero had not felt such an appetite for fortune, he felt the admiration of the crafted materials. It fogged his mind.

What else accompanied greed?

Placing the first bottle in its original location, Link picked up the next.

"I wonder…"

As he had done before, he removed the stopper. He inhaled the same luxurious scent, its potency amplified. It was richer; more exotic. Spilling the contents into the dish, he observed the liquid's magical change; as well as the visual spell.

The stanza was swept up, to remain only in Link's memory. The bewitched liquid fluttered like butterfly wings within the water. Soft shades of pink intermingled with vibrant rouges. Once more, the human was entranced.

As were the forgotten souls.

Drunk with carnal cravings, the youth witnessed demons engrossed in sexuality. Limits were absent. Demons, both male and female engaged their physical hankerings; exploring the realms of the body. Free from clothing, the nakedness of arms, legs, and hidden areas trembled in vigorous need.

Link's face burned with embarrassment as he observed the shameless debauchery. He had repressed the desires of the flesh; ignored the impurities that filtered into his dreams. He was a man in stature, yet a youth in heart. Though human and bestowed with such emotions, Link hardly considered the pleasures that came from the gratification of sex.

His life organ pulsed sensually in his chest. He couldn't pull away.

The skin of all was embellished in sweat, their heated bodies begging for release. Link heard the aberration in their cries, their rollicking voices. They could not be satisfied by singular copulation. They abandoned all logic in the presence of animalistic pursuits.

Link felt flush.

The boy shut his eyes, the promiscuities of others an explicit sight to behold. But the sensations could not be barred from entry. It caused his heart to race.

It was lust.

And it was wrong.

And yet he listened. Though he did not wish to see anymore, he was infiltrated by lust.

But lust was meaningless. To fulfill a moment of need would only leave the individual with greater emptiness. By continually seeking such ends did it become more overwhelming.

Forcing darkness to retreat, the hero spoke the answer.

"Lust," Link stated, finding himself breathless.

He was released from the power that held his mind captive. The images faded away, revealing the next verse. However, he was not so eager to look into the basin.

Link stared at the floor.

"His favorite," he scoffed to no one. "Of course…"

Link paused for a few moments, gathering himself. While Ghirahim delighted in lust, the human knew that there was more to the demon's adoration of this riddle. No, the Demon Lord was interested in far more than greed, or even lust…

Restoring the bottle of lust to its place, Link finally stared into the dish's shallow pool. He had to press on, no matter what he was shown.

Afentis was testing his reserve.

"To satisfy your hunger, your gluttony untold – Was once a small desire, the want began to bulge."

Again, the verse verbally illustrated the ravenous appetite of want. But if greed and lust were merely facets of the second attribute, what was the umbrella to which all resided?

Taking the third bottle, Link continued. What else was there?

Blackness blanketed the pool.

Violence met the hero's waiting gaze, shutting out his surroundings. Bodies of demons were strewn across the earth like twigs. Their faces were blank, their lifeless limbs never to move again. Liquid from their wounds drained into puddles of puce beneath them.

The depictions were grotesque.

Mindless carnage.

There were those who overpowered the weaker demons, mercy a dead word in their ears. No soul who stumbled before them were exempt from the sharpness of their fury. They drank in the screams like wine, delighted in the blood that dripped from their blades.

The venom constricted. Link clutched at the painful tightness. Just as his heart yearned for the tortured souls at the first arch, it did now.

Ghirahim's ghostly face flashed in the water, his dark eyes alight with voracious vehemence. A smirk formed on his lips – as if to know the human was watching. He would show the sky-child his true talent.

The demon weaved a bloody tapestry, his movements precise and unfeeling. His soul was as cold as his dark sword. Few could match his diabolical perfection. The boy could hardly stand it, but he was drawn in.

"No…" Link spoke "I don't want to see anymore."

The pain increased. His heart was elated.

The images continued, phased not by the youth's pleas. He had not guessed the answer.

He saw the bokoblin, its skull crushed into the dirt.

"Bloodshed? Hate?" conjectured the human. His energy was being sucked away.

The Demon Lord licked the fresh blood from his weapon.

"Anger!?" Link called out through gritted teeth.

No, it was not anger, hate, or bloodshed. It was a deep seeded fury. It increased with every slash of the sword, every last breath. It was a game played by the powerful where the rules were heinous. The bringer of slaughter who dominated the masses was proclaimed the winner.

It was wrath, and it was ferocious. It took away lives, even those least deserving.

"Wrath!" screamed the human, his eyes emblazoned with the color of blood.

The gore vanished, the basin clear once more. But the impact upon the hero remained.

Turning away, Link was no longer held hostage by wrath. His life-organ eased. Sweat had broken out on his brow, the moisture sliding down his cheek. He was short of breath. Bringing his hand over his sight, the boy willed the nightmare away. Such ruthlessness was beyond anything Link could conceive. He was incapable of fathoming it.

"What kind of creatures are demons…" he mumbled incoherently.

He stood for an eternity. He had been weighed down – sinking deeper into the mud. He finally understood the mass that had choked the _others_. What he had witnessed was beyond description. Not even greed, lust, and wrath could truly purvey the depictions.

How could anyone live in such turmoil?

Why would they willing choose such a path?

The human still clung to the edge of the basin, his fingers aching. While vengeance had worn his body, the second task beat down his spirit. Glancing down the length of his arm, the human saw the third lyric. It waited patiently to be read. He did not recite it immediately. He wasn't sure if he could take much more. Also, his dark reactions were horrifying to him.

But, it was his duty to see what others should not have to.

He let the words tumble from his tongue.

"Required more to fill, the pit with what you stole – No longer but a pin-prick, tis now a gaping hole."

It was the final hint. There were no more glass containers.

Link was left to contemplate the clues revealed to him. What relationship did greed, lust, and wrath share? And more importantly, what darkness did they foretell of the second piece to the inverted Triforce?

The boy took his time, wary of sparking anything new inside him.

It was human nature to desire success and delight at the wonders of life. But it could easily become distorted. Demons showcased corruption flawlessly. To simply accept what was given was not enough. It required greatness above all others; excess.

Greed with its wealth, lust and bodily pleasures, wrath and control – each soul who sought after these goals gorged upon their achievement. While the flavor was sumptuous, they sank deeper into the hole that they created for themselves. Only until it was too late was their folly recognized. They were consumed by their consumption; beyond the point of return.

Destroyed by indulgence.

That was it.

Gazing into the still water, Link fought with the word. He had found the answer to Afentis' riddle. The process however, was disturbing. He found indulgence to be a bitter word.

"Indulgence," he stated.

The water in the basin began to dry, taking with it the words scribbled into the silver. The human waited until the dish was as arid as the desert.

A final inscription rested at the bottom like tea dregs.

"The burden of your triumph, leaves you alone to tread – Though not amongst your excess, drown in the deluge, instead."

A low rumble proceeded Link's words. Shooting his eyes like an arrow around the chamber, he saw the domed ceiling and the supportive walls. Sheets of water draped the ramparts, seeping down the steps like waterfalls. The liquid gurgled quickly over the stone, collecting at the lowest level. The chilled water soaked the soles of the hero's boots.

Without wasting a moment, the hero slammed his heels into the growing puddle. With the swiftness of a rabbit, Link propelled himself to the staircase. Skipping steps at a time, he dashed upwards. Water splashed around his ankles, biting his knees with bitter cold.

The hero had solved the riddle. The sealed door had to be opened. He did not want to be burdened with indulgence any longer.

Nearly to the top, the boy slipped upon the rising water. He tumbled forward, his shins scraping the corners like a knife on whetstone. Tumbling over the topmost steps, Link plunged his face into the frigid cold.

Sputtering water, the human cranked his head back. Surely the seal would be open.

It had to be.

But it was not. The closure was intact.

Scrambling to his feet, Link ran to the door. He was rapidly losing sensation in his legs, his shaking fingers following suit. He pounded on the rock, the door stalwart against his weak attacks. The water gushed over his arms.

"No…" the human faltered "No! Open! Open!"

Indulgence pressed on his chest.

Faster and faster the water flowed.

Looking over his wet shoulder, the blonde saw the water level creep higher. Soon it would fill the entire chamber. It would fill his mouth and lungs. He would be silenced like the _others_. It was the price they paid for endless fulfillment.

But, a way out had to exist.

Link had to find it.

Turning away from the hopeless exit, the boy looked upon the watery grave of so many before him. He braced himself for the dangers to come. The youth would dive into the frigid jaws of the deluge. He had no other choice.

Walking down several feet, Link waded into the icy matter up to his waist. He gasped at the cold, shocking his muscles into immobility. No matter how long he would wade, the temperature would remain the same.

Gathering his nerve, Link took a deep breath. He submerged himself completely beneath the surface.

The water pierced every inch of his body like needles, numbing all feeling. He opened the barriers of his lips, swallowing a mouthful of liquid.

Breaking the surface, Link coughed harshly. His body shivered violently.

The water was inches higher on his torso.

He couldn't panic. He still had time.

Inhaling again, the human immersed himself. He pushed further down the steps, this time keeping his breath intact.

The world beneath the surface was disturbingly silent as Link dragged his arms through the water. He pushed the matter past him like reeds, his legs mirroring the action. Lower and lower he propelled himself, scanning the flooded stone.

He swam further down, his hat lost in his efforts.

The light could not penetrate the water's surface. Though clear as it was, shadows congregated at the bottom. Only the occasional glint of the silvery bird bath alerted Link to the distance he needed to go. It was his beacon.

He reached the bottom level.

Barely able to view the space in front of his face, the human's hands met the floor with an abrupt jolt. He blindly searched for the basin, wrapping his arm around its narrow leg. He frantically combed the darkness. He wanted to swim up to the other side of the chamber.

Just as he was about to let go, Link discovered something by luck.

Streams of air tangled around his body, heading for the surface. They were refugees, released from the cracks beneath the basin.

There was a pocket of air below.

But Link could not hold his breath any longer. He desperately needed air.

He shot straight up, kicking his legs as hard as he could. He could not feel the aching that plagued him earlier. However, the deadness in his limbs made controlling them challenging.

His body looked like a loftwing thrusting through the sky.

Breaking through the top, Link gulped the oxygen with labored breaths. His lips quivered. His hair stuck to his face, dripping like icicles. The water was now above the obsidian door.

Again, he descended into the watery abyss.

He met the bottom quickly, giving him time to inspect the leaking cracks. Running his hands over the breaks, he followed the increase of air flow. The closer the fissures were to the base of the bird bath, the greater force the human felt rush past his skin.

Placing his hands on the basin's leg, he pushed. Though the bird bath did not budge free, the hero felt it tilt against him. A burst of air rushed past Link's face. Pushing again, the basin slanted further.

Once more, Link had to resurface.

He could barely keep himself afloat, his body unable to fulfill the demands given. He bobbed limply, his entire body frozen. If he were to attempt another deep dive, he would not be able to reach the surface in time. It strained his lungs and body too much.

A realization had been made.

If Link was to break into the air pocket, this would be his last chance to do so.

He needed courage to uphold him.

With one final gasp, Link inhaled what could be his final inhalation.

Willing his numb arms to work, down he swam.

The darkness had grown thicker, pulling the hero into its domain. Relying on vision would be a tremendous mistake.

He fumbled. Grappling onto the dish's edges, the blonde yanked it like a weed. It jerked, loosening its hold on the stony floor. But it was not fast enough.

With every tug, bubbles fled Link's mouth. He was so close. He could feel the air surround him. But he was losing precious oxygen. Each heave brought him closer to freedom and death. His became lightheaded, his body disconnected from his mind.

Disorientation was setting in.

But he needed to pull with all his might. He had to risk drowning.

And hold on.

Pulling himself lower, Link firmly circled the basin's stem. In one smooth motion, the hero pulled the silver. It crumbled from the floor, toppling over in slow motion. A yawning hole just large enough for the human had been made.

But the hero had no more breath.

Choking on the water, the liquid conquered his mouth. It moved into his lungs, forcing the air into submission.

He screams were blocked, his body convulsing as it fought for air.

His eyes were wide even though they saw little.

He was fading.

His head nodded on his neck. He floated, unmoving.

But he felt the pull of the air. It wrestled with his limp legs.

Barely conscious, the human sank to the hole. He did not notice his hands clawing at the open edges. The perimeter crumbled in his hands. His will to live had taken control.

He pushed his head into unknown, his body shortly behind. He disappeared into the opening.

Indulgence did not claim the hero.

**Author's Note:** There you go! So my chapters keep getting longer and longer! I wanted to post this yesterday (a few days ago actually) but complications arose. I changed my ideas about fifty times, and here is what it ended up being. Yet another vice of the demon world is discovered: indulgence! A tricky thing, indulgence. It can start off as an innocent satisfaction, but snowball out of control. Often times, we may not realize that we are over doing it when it comes right down to it. So please leave me a review, and let me know what you think! I hope that it was to your liking, at least a little…:( Also, from those I haven't heard from, or those who haven't reviewed in a while (if you're still out there and haven't run away in disgust), please drop me a line! The greater feedback I get from people, the more able I am to assess what the audience finds interesting! Anyhow, have a marvelous day!


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** Welcome to the twelfth installment! Thanks for all of your feedback for chapter eleven. I am very glad that it was to your liking. Also, it was suggested that I keep my author's note shorter, so I shall work on that! On a side-note, I've been working on pre-Skyward Sword stories (myths/legends) that will be used along with the main storyline. I have plenty of ideas, but not sure what ones will be received well…

**Alerts:** I do not own Skyward Sword, nor any of its parts. The outside characters are of my own creation! Shonen-ai is suggested.

_The Bane_

Chapter 12

There was no companion that accompanied Link into blackness. It cosseted him from every angle, swaddling him in frightening stillness. The sights of the _others_ were cruelly drowned out, to continue their purgatory. Only until another individual would brave the jagged walls of Diados would the souls become audience once more. The hero was aware of his lone consciousness and yet he had no immediate memory of arrival. How does one enter upon such enigmatic solitude?

Greed, lust, and wrath – all servants of indulgence moved effortlessly in the hero's heart. The poison desired to own the shimmering wealth of the world. It whispered to forgo all morality and engage in pleasure. It urged Link to bathe in the blood of the slain; experience the inclinations that he had been starved of. The thoughts trickled in drop by drop, like water.

_Water_.

The liquid seeped through the cracks in his mind, chilling him from within. He recalled how it filled the circular chamber; cascading over the flawless walls like sheets of glass. The clarity of these images was startling, causing the blonde to question if it was reality.

Shadows gathered at the bottom floor of the chamber, like rocks tossed into a pond. The human's clothes pulled against him as he swam into the inkiness. Time was not on his side. It was swallowing him up with nowhere to resurface.

Link tried to call out. But he could not sense his lips. They were frozen by the power of silence. Why could he not react? He was cognizant of his mind and the thoughts that were scattered therein, but his body was disconnected from that mental line.

Link clung to the basin's edges, jerking it from all directions. He witnessed it break free from the crumbling floor. He had discovered the way out! But it was not soon enough. He had lost all breath.

He was drowning.

Or, had he already done so?

The youth began to panic. He could not be dead. Could he?

The sound of coughing shattered through the alarm. It awakened Link from his all-consuming slumber.

Water erupted from the boy's lungs. It poured from his mouth like an over-flowing pitcher as he lay on his back. Air dispelled the invasion of water. Link closed his eyes tightly, the corners crinkling. Shifting to his side he felt the hard floor beneath him, his cheek pressing against the cold stone. Were it not for his soaking body, the ground would be dry.

Liquid continued to expel from the human, each inhalation easier to take. Finally, the last drop trickled from his lips. It dragged over his skin, falling into the puddle that accumulated around his frozen face. Fists had relinquished their hold upon the human's lungs. Link gasped freely, relaxing his expression.

The hero did not immediately return to his back, opting instead to remain immobile. With a hunched spine he brought his arms to his chest, bending his knees. With hooded eyes, Link looked between sopping strands of hair. He saw his surroundings without entirely seeing them.

Violet waves of light reflected from the cool, polished floor. The hue rippled across the stone like a pond that had been disturbed. It was familiar. Link focused upon the light. Like a rope he used it to pull himself from the tentacles of unconscious.

Minutes passed.

Numbness had begun to subsided, allowing the human to retake control of his faculties. He was aware that he had made it to the prize of indulgence. He was alone with Afentis once more.

However, Link found he was reluctant to stand. Not only had his injuries been added to, but indulgence had retained its potency. He could not easily brush aside its influence. It was a sign of more to come. But the hero would have to wait for its fulfillment, though it was assumed that the Demon Lord would be a player in bringing the sign to pass. He was the transmitter of chaos.

"Uhn…" Link groaned. His ears were muted. Rolling his body like a bolder, the blonde straightened out. Pushing the hair from his face, he looked above him. His chest rose and fell as he scanned the ceiling. Suspecting to see the smooth design he had come to recognize, the hero noticed a sizeable hole disturb the architecture. It was the opening he had created by means of the basin. He had fallen a great many feet.

Fissures spread from the hole; a reverse image of the floor above it. Yet while air bubbled up through the cracks like a geyser, droplets did not drip through. The enormous chamber retained all the water for itself, not sharing it with the hidden pocket. The hole was tranquil, nothing more than a blot on the gleaming ceiling. The emotions and images were also barred entry, much to Link's relief. Dealing with his own dismay was more than enough.

The magic in place was truly miraculous. But it was a waste to ponder on it. Not counting the powers the hero had come into contact with, infinite numbers of spells still existed. They were birthed over hundreds of years that could not be comprehended in one lifetime.

Afentis observed Link in patience, Ghirahim again removed from the meeting. While the Demon Lord mocked the human's first efforts in the task of vengeance, it could not be denied the anomalous efforts the boy had employed.

The majority of visitor's to the mystic's hall were presented with one task – their first and only task. To propose three individual errands was as rare as snowfall in the summer. And to survive not one, but two was even more remarkable. He was no ordinary being; he was truly called of the Goddess herself.

However, there was more to his existence than that.

Link pushed himself to sit, his arms propped behind him. His sword had remained wedged between his tunic and belt. It accepted the hero as its master; not leaving his side. A small smile spread across the boy's lips. It was of some comfort to have a small token of congruity. His hat was not so lucky. It had been left behind, unlikely to be recovered. With care, Link rose to his feet. He wobbled like a child taking their first steps. He moved to the wall, relying on its sturdiness to contrast his shaking knees.

The cavity that held the prize of indulgence was a twin to vengeance. Were it not for the blot upon the ceiling, Link would have supposed he had arrived at the same location. However, the impact of the space's construction still impressed him; the towering walls, the obsidian stone, the elegantly vaulted ceiling. Most of all, the prize that floated above the pedestal possessed vast intrigue.

Link's skin prickled at the sight of the amethyst. The violet flames in their alcoves glittered on the jewel. It was as tempting as the images within the basin. But this gem was capable of great and terrible things. What peril it would bring if it made its way into the hands of someone dangerous?

"Someone like Ghirahim…" Link murmured. It was a thought the boy would rather not contemplate. The hero was still very much in the dark when it came to the demon's plans. However he held no doubt regarding Ghirahim's need for the triangular gems he was collecting. If they were unnecessary in the demon's plot, why would he make a point to venture into the canyon? Ghirahim was not one to fritter away time, especially his own. He removed the parts of his existence that offended him.

And how did Link fit into the scheme? If Ghirahim were to gather the gems instead, he would make light work of the tasks. He would complete each trial within the course of an afternoon – maybe even less. While the human had witnessed the power of the demon, there was more beneath his cool façade. Was Link serving a darker purpose in the name of honor?

It made the human's heart ache.

Steadying his legs, the hero approached the prize as he had done before. He retained a degree of caution, aware that his emotions would undergo strain.

His boots left dewy marks on the raised platform, one step after the other. The weight of the water hung on his trousers, pulling them from his hipbones. He stared into the alluring depths of the amethyst. It bobbed gingerly, though its sway was already persuading the hero.

His heart rate increased, tightening his chest.

The gem inspected Link's life organ for indulgences he took in his life. But it was difficult to draw events where the boy had taken more than his fair share. Link had on many occasions had spent too much time studying the backs of his eyelids. But it was an innocent activity. The blonde was a giving individual, sharing what he had with anyone who was in need. He found great satisfaction and joy in service; to see the smiling faces of those he had helped.

He kept little for himself.

But when extending his care to others, he at times felt thin. Like sheets that are scrubbed, starched, and stretched out on a line he could feel the wind of loneliness pass through him. He wanted to feel the overwhelming love that came through sincere companionship. It was true that Zelda had been his closest friend through the frivolous years of childhood, but Link could not help longing for a greater connection.

His calling from the Goddess—his friend, had changed him significantly. He was no longer a carefree youth. He had seen too much of the evils that plagued the surface. Zelda too had come to the realization of her true self. There was no hope of life returning to its previous serenity. Link's world had been scorched. While over time the greenery would return, the immediate scars would be clearly visible.

It was a sad reality.

But a new seed was being planted. When the Demon Lord forced his unsavory behavior on Link, it was like breaking the soil on a new plot. Want for sinister acts emblazoned his heart. The ground that had been burned was being offered relief from the rainclouds.

Link placed his hand over his heart. It throbbed against his ribs. Was Ghirahim the individual who would replace the loss? Would the Demon Lord regrow what had been charred with a new creation?

Link shook his head. What a foolish assessment.

Ghirahim would not be so kind. With his malicious nature he would rain down a stinging torrent. It would flood the loosened dirt that Link stood on, dragging him into a descent beyond his control. The Demon Lord would cause more harm than good.

But the storm was coming. Link could see it on the horizon whenever he looked into Ghirahim's face. He would have to outrun the wind if he were escape further devastation.

'Take it…' the jewel hummed the familiar phrase.

How can one outrun the wind? He was a boy.

'Take it…'

Just a boy.

Sighing in defeat, Link reached out and touched the hot gem.

The mineral split apart, piercing the deafness in the boy's ears. Smoke swirled free. The pillar of ashen matter expanded to the ceiling, corkscrewing as it had before. But Link did not step back. The heat dried his face and neck, leaving the skin tight. He smelled the sulfur and ash as it sprinkled onto his shoulders. He licked his dry lips.

Afentis spoke through the smoky spire, her commanding voice unmistakable.

"Hero of the Goddess…" she began her monologue, "born in innocence, striving for goodness in all things."

Link listened like a child to the advice of his mother. He hung on what she had to share.

Figures of trees and songbirds swirled in and out of the column. The forest; the first of the surface he had stepped foot on. It appeared unaffected by the darkness that threatened it. The kikwi roamed their habitat in peace. The river carved between the landscape, feeding the plants and fish with freshness. Before he had descended through the cloud barrier, Link though a very different place existed.

It was beautiful.

"I have seen your heart…" she continued. "And it is pure…"

"Pure…" the hero responded, confirming his attentiveness. Was his heart truly pure? With all the darkness that barraged his diligence, did Afentis correctly place her judgement?

The youth was unsure.

"Hero of the Goddess…"

At once the ash contracted, forced into the tight space of the jewel. With the familiar flash of violet the pieces came together, unable to be ripped apart by mortal means. Floating no longer, it clinked onto the pedestal.

The ritual was complete, the room returning to its previous state. The human however was not the same. Link's eyes rested on the second amethyst. Taking the icy jewel from its place, he weighed it in his hand. There was nothing physical to differentiate it from vengeance; all except a feeling the youth felt in his bosom. He placed it in the safety of his pocket.

Turning his back onto the pedestal, Link stepped down the platform. His clothes were no longer soaking, the fabric constricting as it dried. A new archway had appeared, waiting to take the human back to the main hall.

Link did not hesitate to take his leave, uncomfortable at what he had discovered about himself. Afentis proclaimed him to be pure, and perhaps before his arrival in the demon world it was true. Indulgence had uncovered more darkness than even vengeance.

He let the smoke draw him through the doorway. What comments would the Demon Lord have in regards to his most recent 'performance'?

9

The features of the main hall came into focus as Link transitioned through the second archway. Not even a moment had passed since the blonde's return did he hear the demon's voice. Ghirahim interjected his cynical opinion on the boy's accomplishments like a forger's hammer. This reaction was as the human expected. But would the Demon Lord sense the change in the boy's heart?

"The child of fortune grants us with his unmitigated presence" Ghirahim exclaimed with proficient mockery. "Your and the whore must have had a titillating conversation."

The doorway closed.

The demon did not slink behind the youth as he had done before. He presented himself without concealment. He leaned languorously against the obsidian plinth, his long legs crossed at the ankles. His back arched like the bend of a bow, his right arm draped across his torso. In his opposite hand he held the jewel of vengeance. He inspected it inches from his face, stroking the carved edges with his thumb.

"I must confess I find myself at a loss," Ghirahim continued acerbically. "Whether it is appropriate for me to rejoice at your return or hang my head in disappointment; I simply cannot decide! Your performance was indeed an improvement upon the first, but I am left with a sense of greater wanting."

Link's eyes hardened automatically. He purposefully cast his sight downward. He focused on the gem in the demon's hands, regarding his ministrations with mild curiosity. The Demon Lord caressed the precious stone as if it were a sweet kitten. The venom in his organ suggested even more fascinating uses for the demon's talented digits.

"I don't care one way or the other," the hero responded sternly, shoving the thoughts back.

The Demon Lord's mouth broadened into his signature smile. With a curving motion, he tossed the amethyst over his right shoulder. He effortlessly pushed himself to stand, the invisible power of the plinth pulling the gem into its influence. Link made his way to the column. He moved without haste.

"Do my ears deceive me?" Ghirahim questioned. "Do you mean to say, my little bird that you proclaim to have little interest in my personal feelings? Hasn't our relationship proliferated?"

The blonde did not respond, keeping his eyes firmly on the other's chest. Ghirahim eyed the boy as a lone wolf would eye a lost lamb. He was ever perceptive.

"What a selfish boy you are, sky-child. I am sincerely appalled at the scantiness with which you regard my dilemma! As a servant to the Goddess, I would have suspected a higher degree of enthusiasm. After all, is it not your station to assist those who are in need of your services?"

Link stopped three paces short of the pedestal. A sizeable distance needed to be maintained. If the Demon Lord were inclined to resume the sexual activities of earlier or act out in violence, the hero would need sufficient space to recoil.

"I know what my duty to the Goddess is," Link stated flatly. "And to those I've met."

"Am I not one of the many you have met on your undertaking? Do I not deserve a piece of your generosity?"

"I'm not helping you because I want to," Link replied harshly. "I'm doing it because I need to."

"Cease to bore me with your mindless drivel!" Ghirahim sighed emphatically. Bringing the back of his hand to his eyes, the demon pretended to ward off a vicious headache. "After all, when one is offered assistance, is it customary for some sort of repayment to follow."

"I don't live by your standards." Link snapped. "I don't help others to benefit myself."

Link's heart pounded with frustration, and with guilt. Though he would not admit it aloud, the demon was right. He was only facilitating Ghirahim's goal due to his own requirements. Wasn't it Link's calling to guard the world from evil, no matter the cost? Or was the mantra hiding a fallacy?

"Your delusions are getting the better of you," Ghirahim replied, folding his arms over his chest. "Did not you not agree to aid me in my search? You claim to serve out of goodness, but in fact you are only seeking to cleanse your heart of the venom that grows with it each passing minute."

The hero had no reply, the fog circling his ankles like chains.

"Though you starve yourself through humble piety, you disguise a need that cannot be ignored."

Link tightened his façade. He could lie and say he felt nothing of the sort. But Ghirahim had been there, just as Afentis had. They knew the images that filled the silver basin. They could see the struggle the human underwent.

"No. I don't."

"Oh, I really believe you do."

The blonde said nothing.

Shifting his figure, the demon stood between the human and the plinth. He spied down on the boy over the end of his nose.

"Your silence indicates a truth you are warring against," he mused "Trepidation of your veracious nature, perhaps?

Flinging his head up, Link glowered directly into the demon's eyes. Anger was thrashing inside him.

"I'm not afraid," he retorted. "Least of all you."

"Oh?" the demon inquired, his eyes flickering with warning. "If you claim such bravery, why do you hesitate to step near?"

The human's cheeks grew hot. He had been cornered like a mouse. Ghirahim's grin only widened.

"I –"

"A coward will speak a flurry of falsehoods. When faced with danger however, he will tuck his tail between his legs and scamper off; whimpering in defeat."

Link's heart crushed against his ribs excruciatingly. His veins throbbed beneath his flesh, filling him with adrenaline. He could not let the Demon Lord taunt him.

"If anyone's the coward, it's you," Link yelled. "Why do you need me, a _child_ from the surface to gather these relics?! You are the Demon Lord, aren't you? Or maybe you're afraid of your weaknesses and would make a human do your bidding."

A deadly hush followed the hero's fighting voice. Ghirahim's mouth became a solid line, his eyes dark like the abyss. It was too late for Link to withdraw his words. He would be punished for his offense.

The demon step towards the human. Evading as rapidly as a slingshot, Link leapt toward the pedestal. His damp shoulder brushed passed the Ghirahim. The jewel bounced in his pocket, practically escaping the fabric's lip. Link's hand fumbled around its triangular shape, removing it from the pouch.

As Link pulled it out, his hand was intercepted.

Clamping around the boy's wrist, Ghirahim held it as if it were a twig. If he exerted even a small amount of pressure, the bones would snap. He forced Link to his knees, clasping the raised arm before his chest. The blonde grunted in pain.

"Petulant creature!" the Demon Lord hissed. "You are ignorant of your own insignificance. There are beings beyond these walls that haunt the depths of nightmares. Were it not for my benevolence, they would have plunged your soul into oblivion. Even they shrink at the mere envisage of my wrath! You are unworthy of my munificence."

With his free hand, Link withdrew his sword from his belt. Swinging it like a scythe at harvest-time, he pointed the tip of the blade beneath the demon's chin.

"I can say the same for you," Link growled, his temper hot.

The human and the demon were locked fiery stare; black and blue unwilling to shy away. Afentis seemed to sigh as she viewed the confrontation. Tension was as taut as a rope. If pulled any further, it would snap. But the Thread of Fate was not so feeble.

It was then that the Demon Lord began to laugh. His rich tone filled the chamber, rising to the ceiling like hot air. It expanded diabolically. The hairs on the hero's neck stood on end. While laughter in other circumstances was a positive indicator, with Ghirahim it could mean any number of things—none of which were congenial.

"What's so funny?" Link asked, pressing the blade further into the demon's neck.

Slowing his mirth to a chuckle, the demon answered.

"You walk a fine line between foolishness and daring, my little bird. I ponder at how long your luck with last."

"It's gotten me this far."

Link's anger was fading away.

Biting his lower lip seductively, Ghirahim flicked aside Link's rusty blade. He dragged the human up like a rag doll, placing his attentions on the gem in the youth's hand. Link swallowed hard.

Bringing it to his lips, the demon kissed the icy mineral. He was drinking in the greed, lust, and wrath. Its nectar was not tampered with; unhampered indulgence. Ghirahim worked his mouth over the smooth surface as Link watched nervously.

Link's breathing hitched, his mouth becoming as dry as the desert. He remembered the images of lust in the basin. The hero had seen incidents of carnal pleasure begin with simple enterprises. All too hastily they would balloon. Ghirahim had known that Link had been exposed to such carnal images, and chose to nip at the sensitive issue. The demon was once again getting beneath the hero's skin.

Link pulled his arm free, releasing the amethyst as well. It landed beside the demon's white clad foot. Ghirahim licked his orifice with mischief in his eyes. The corners of Link's mouth turned down into a grimace.

"Aww," the Demon Lord cried. "I would have suspected lust to teach you a thing or two about accepting your natural inclinations. Or…"

The demon leaned down to scoop the mineral like a fallen fruit.

"…has it offered insight that you are scarcely beginning to recognize?"

Instead of answering the question posed, Link changed the subject. It was the only escape he had.

"Why 'indulgence'? What does it have to do with 'wisdom'?"

"You know, evading the query only points to your culpability," Ghirahim sneered, allowing the second gem to join its companion. The pair of triangles floated leisurely around each other like the orbit of planets. "You will be required to answer sooner or later."

"What does it mean?" Link urged impatiently.

"I seem to recall a time not long before now where you were uninterested in my familiarity on the subject."

The human glared testily. Ghirahim smirked.

"Wisdom pursues knowledge for the sake of knowing," the demon drawled, bored by the topic. He paced back and forth as if to keep his attention. "The wisdom that is gathered will be shared with others; oral tradition or even from an ancient text. Those who cling to the tutelage of wisdom are like a beacon, extending what they have studied like light. A rather dull prospect if I do say so myself…at least, if utilized in this fashion."

The pure pursuit of knowledge. Like courage, wisdom was not obtained for the benefit of oneself. While enjoyment could be derived from gathering gen, the purpose of expanding the mind would guide generations to come. But the wise were not always so giving of their discernment. The dragons were examples of such. They dwelled where few could reach them. However, their rule was seeped with their enlightenment.

"And indulgence?"

Ghirahim's expression beamed.

"Ah…indulgence. The utterance of such a piquant word causes my skin to tingle. Indulgence too seeks what the world has to offer it. Yet, unlike the monotonous task of attaining wisdom, indulgence satisfies the seeker on all levels. Why put forth a mountainous effort if it will not be rewarded with immense gratification?"

Of course. Indulgence sought after the experiences like wisdom and knowledge. However, to gather experiences was not an enterprise undertaken by altruism. If the effort was not returned with an equal or greater return, the purpose was lost. Indulgence was just as insatiable as vengeance. It was seeking after self-fulfillment.

Ghirahim had perfected the pursuit.

"Hmm…" Link uttered to himself. A pattern was beginning to unfold. The Triforce was the symbol of selflessness; it could only stand if the possessor was in harmony with these principles. The inverted Triforce was its darker twin; a symbol of selfishness. "That only leaves power…"

How did the opposite of power fit into the puzzle?

What _was_ the sibling of power?

"My infatuation with indulgence travels as far back as I can remember," Ghirahim recollected. "It requires little thought as to why it is beloved by me."

Link was not listening. His mind feasted upon the tidbit of information. He was getting closer to unraveling one of the mysteries of the demon realm.

Taking advantage of the boy's distant mind, Ghirahim slid beside the human as if he were on ice. He rounded his shoulder, leaning into his pointed ear.

"My little bird, you have only tasted a drop of what can be obtained through indulgence," the Demon Lord purred. He hinted at greed or lust, but was wordlessly emphasizing wrath. "I am not blind to what you witnessed in the second trial. It stirred your true nature which has slept until this very moment. Why not accept what dwells within; open yourself to the euphoric delights. Denial will only hinder you in this shadowy world."

The Demon Lord's persuasion stuck in the human's ears, the venom savoring every syllable. To give in was to lighten the load of piety; to follow only one master.

"Following the Goddess will only lead you to ruin."

Ghirahim's fingers tangled in the boy's loose hair, no longer concealed by his green cap. The youth exhaled. Again, Link wondered what merited such fascination with his blonde locks.

"I've a lot left to do," Link stated flatly. He shrugged the demon off like a fly buzzing in his ear. But the words said fly whispered could not so easily be blown off. The hero strode to the final archway; the only one left to explore.

The Chosen Hero was burdened, but he was not yet broken.

**Author's Note:** There you go, the completion of chapter twelve! I know it was another in-between chapter, but I hope you liked the dialogue. I took a more straightforward approach this time since you already have an image of what the surroundings look like. So please leave me a review! Also, I have a few polls on my profile. So if you're bored or haven't answered the questions, why not take a second! I really want your opinions! Have a great day!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **Hello and welcome to the thirteenth installment! I'm not sure why I call them installments. As usual, thank-you for your amazing reviews! I love seeing you engage with the story! But we are getting closer to figuring out the last part of the inverted Triforce! So I hope you'll stay tuned! And I apologize for the flaws in chapter twelve. I was rushing and not taking proper care! Also, I'm incredibly sorry for the horrible delay. School and work tag-team bully me…

**Alerts:** I do not own the Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, or any of its characters. But characters such as Afentis are of my own creation. But you already knew that.

_The Bane_

Chapter 13

When the chosen hero first set foot on the forested earth of Faron, his curious mind twittered with excitement. The cloud barrier that floated beneath the islands of Skyloft prevented any soul from venturing below. The blonde often wondered what dwelled under the hazy cover –drifting there in his dreams. Yet, not even the boy's imaginings could compare to reality. The woods presented Link with a lush environment to explore in earnest.

But for all the peaceful creatures, greenery and crisp air, within the deep of the forest – a temple waited. What was once anticipation transformed into reservation. The Skyview Temple's gilded doors swung wide open, dusty stairs descending not into a dream, but a nightmare. Like wiping away the colors from a painted face, the true skin of the world had been uncovered; scars and all.

Link's journey into the realm of demons not only paralleled his first encounter with the surface, but the experience was grossly amplified. He proceeded into Afentis' final task like he had done at Skyview's entrance; every step brought him to the discovery of the demon realm's hidden face and deeper into the nightmare. What inspired the beings of shadow in their attacks on the realm of light?

The youth pondered these things as he stepped through the third archway – and more. Just as the human worked to unveil the values of the inverted Triforce, likewise he was uncovering flaws in himself. Link did not believe he was a perfect individual, knowing full well of his limitations. But the defects Ghirahim assisted in illuminating were of another kind.

Shades darker than he expected.

Courage and vengeance. Wisdom and indulgence. Power was the capstone of the sacred triangles. What was the completing piece of the inverted Triforce?

Link shifted from one room to the next like the breeze through the trees. What the human had pursued until this very moment hung in the balance. Afentis' challenge required completion. Just as the Triforce was inadequate without three units, so too was its inverted twin. The mysterious mystic was unlikely to give guidance to the human with only two collected relics. The final task was the only way to solidify his efforts and continue forward.

But what truths would he discover from Afentis?

From Ghirahim?

From himself?

The smoke glided away from Link's face, sweeping past his ears. His uncapped head felt unnatural, like a rose without petals. It was yet another fixture in his journey that had been lost. But, he would lose even more before the end.

The blonde's skin tingled. The time had come for destiny to be fulfilled. The hero stepped through the entrance, a stone filling preventing a return path.

Would fate aid the 'Chosen Hero?'

Unlike the winding corridors of vengeance or the imposing arena of indulgence, the final chamber bore no resemblance to the previous tasks. With eight walls equal in dimension, the room could fit within Skyloft's market tent. What was unusual however, were the walls and ceiling. While the floor was constructed from inky stone, the ramparts were draped in icy mirrors.

Meeting edge to edge, the placid sheets of glass circled the perimeter. Fitting perfectly against the topmost edge of each mirror, triangular panes of the roof folded together like a neatly creased paper. The reflections on each surface rebounded into eternity, the appearance of endless hallways a mere trick of the eye.

Stepping cautiously, Link proceeded to inspect the interior. He watched as his own image replicated on every surface, multiplying exponentially. Not only did he feel the sights of Afentis and the Demon Lord upon him, but his own mirrored eyes as well. He looked over his shoulder, his reflections following suit. As he inhaled, they inhaled. Yet, for the abundance of images the boy could see, there was a noticeable dearth within the chamber.

The inner struggles of the _others _were drastically diminished.

Like the faded words of a cherished letter, the emotions of the lost souls were difficult to decipher. The youth could not sense the burning of malice and spite. He could not feel the burden of discontent and insatiable desire. Link knew that the spirits had not ceased to exist; for when the light of a candle is put out, the smell of smoke lingers.

All that remained was the dull influence of confusion and loss.

What characteristic was so great; so intense that it could snuff out the strongest of emotions? Truly, the final piece of the inverted Triforce was the darkest of them all. How befitting the triangle of power.

Tightening his grip on the rusted blade, Link walked to the border of the space. His images imitated precisely. He ran the tips of his fingers over the glacial surface, peering beyond his reflection and into the nonexistent realms.

Power; like the double edge of a sword was capable of immense good and terrible evil. If the wielder was of sound virtue, prosperity would flourish far and wide. By standing atop both courage and wisdom, power would have a firm and righteous base. However, if dark intentions bolstered the wielder, hatred would fester and flow without end. This cruel and ambitious end undoubtedly appealed to the realm of demons.

To Demise.

But, power is not inherently wicked. It is the possessor who corrupts its purity.

"It's used out of selfishness," Link pondered aloud. Once more, the final attribute followed the pattern of self-promotion. Power was not only the ability to guide few, but many. If directed into the darkness, legions of souls would perish.

Yet, to have such influence…

The blonde's heart prickled at his shadowy thoughts. He was disturbed by the direction power's twin was taking, and by his individual considerations. The Nandu's venom was becoming a natural player in the human's thoughts, no matter how emphatically he disagreed. How long before Link would be unable to distinguish himself from its effect? It was already apparent that Ghirahim was facilitating the damage, thereby further his own intentions.

Link's cheeks flushed. The Demon Lord was using all of his wiles to direct the blonde's actions in his favor. With his guilty guile he could tempt even the chastest of humans. He was the embodiment of indulgence and decadence.

Sighing in frustration, the youth rubbed his face. With the exasperation of his rubbing, Link nearly expected his hands to be coated in red. The demon's seductions were maddening, driving him over the cliff inch by inch. Ghirahim wanted nothing less – to be the source and sole focal point in the boy's mind.

He would have no other take his place.

Link's brow furrowed. He needed to concentrate.

How was power used selfishly? How had it been distorted? It was something so devious that it rendered even the captive souls silent.

The hero shivered, his heart beating uncomfortably. It was as if he was locked out in the cold, forced to wonder upon the happenings that occurred inside closed walls. Again, the Demon Lord crept into the youth's consciousness.

Ghirahim especially taunted him with his unknowing. With every uttered word the Demon Lord reminded Link of his insignificance. Link did his best to ignore the slanderous words, but they were beginning to corrode his resolve. But something was not quite right. If the hero was so unimportant, why had the demon spared his life? It wasn't simply to collect artifacts. Ghirahim was searching for more than that. The hero did not understand. Regardless, he would prove his abilities to the demon, even if he did not quite understand the demon's reasons.

Or his own.

Stepping casually to the right, Link circled the edge of the room. Back and forth his figure darted from one pane to the next. The trick played on the boy's sight was dreadful to watch, creating a mild pain around his temples. In defense Link would glance at the floor, allowing his free hand to glide across the frigid glass.

He did not know what he would be asked to do. But, he knew he was searching for a riddle, at least.

Link took his time, following his own instincts while tuning to the vague spirits. Though they could not speak, it did not mean they were unhelpful. The _others _were clues in and of themselves.

Confusion and loss.

Emptiness.

Link had felt these things– when he watched Zelda plummet into the clouds; when he stepped into Skyview; when he was pulled into the realm of demons. These instances had consumed him, leaving the human with little to cling to for stability.

Except for the Master Sword. And yet, here he existed without Fi. She was replaced by a blade that could not compare in magnificence. The Demon Lord was the only individual who provided constancy, though he was as unpredictable as the youth's life had been. He had been a part of Link's journey from the beginning.

At this thought, the smooth wall was interrupted by a series of scratches. But these markings were not of random origin. They curved with purpose. Swallowing even though his mouth was dry, Link brought his gaze upward. It was the engraved lyric that would commence chaos. Removing his fingers, he looked at the letters. He was directly opposite the entrance.

"I should've just walked over here in the first place," Link mumbled to himself, annoyed.

The words were small. It would be nearly impossible to read from across the chamber. Accompanying the phrase was an etching of the inverted Triforce. As expected, the bottommost triangle was whittled out.

Link's heartbeat quickened.

"The lyric you are after, though not as clear as day," Link read aloud, anticipating the worst. "Does not attest to absence, tis just a breath away."

Complete silence.

"…a breath away?" the hero repeated, his life-organ calming little. What could this stanza possibly mean? It was true that the first lyric was not etched in sprawling letters from floor to ceiling; rather, it was small and barely visible. Perhaps the same could be said for the rest of the riddle? There was only one way to find out.

Scanning every mirror with intense concentration, the youth searched. He proceeded clockwise, often crouching to the floor to investigate. Like a merry-go-round he circled the chamber. The repetition caused atrocious dizziness, the blonde's headache receiving no relief.

Around and around he went.

Up and down.

By the time he had completed his eighth go-around, Link stopped one pane beyond where he began. His emotions took over. Frustration and dejection thumped in his chest, and it was quickly spreading to other extremities. He was back in the labyrinth once more, only with fewer directions to go.

Growling loudly, the hero cast himself onto the mirror. With his free arm bent upon the surface, Link placed his forehead upon his forearm. The cold tingled against his flesh as he sighed dolefully.

"What am I doing wrong?" he questioned bitterly. "I can't find anything…"

The lyrics were 'not as clear as day,' they weren't invisible; absolutely nonexistent. How was he to locate and vocalize Afentis' message if the stanzas were undetectable? Link had come to expect this sort of problem, though it did not lessen his irritation.

The human closed his blue eyes, taking deep breaths. His assumptions and deliberations passed by in silence. The lyrics were within the room, there was no doubt in that regard. The hero knew well enough that the mystic would not present a problem without a solution. However, the difficulty of arriving at clarification was debatable. But what did Afentis mean when she wrote 'just a breath away?'

"A breath away…" Link murmured as his lids slid open. Due to the proximity of his face to the glass, moisture had accumulated like morning dew. The blonde stared at the misted glass, reminded of a time when he was a little boy.

As a game, he and Zelda would write secret messages to each other on windows and mirrors. Though the content of these messages was arbitrary, it was always thrilling to breathe onto a clear window and find words that no one else was aware of.

They were only a breath away.

Motionless.

The blonde gasped. That was the answer. The riddle was present, but in order to read the words he needed to look beyond what he could straightforwardly see! Afentis was playing the same game, only more insidious.

Pulling away from the pane, Link set to the work of detection. With his mouth only inches from the clear surface, he parted his lips. His hot breath trickled over the sensitive skin. He blew at eye level, his breath expanding rapidly. It thinly coated the glass.

He blew again, and again until…

There it was.

No longer invisible, the intricate handwriting appeared before Link's very eyes. He read it in a steady voice before it had the chance to disappear.

"A promise of tomorrow, an open hand extents," he articulated. "Appears a noble action, which claims a righteous end."

This was power's purest form if utilized with a heart full of charity. But this was not the only stanza apart of the riddle.

Skipping the mirror where the first clue had been located, the hero employed his growing knowledge. Repeating as he had done the first, he blew hot breath over the mirror until the next set of words were visible. He read them.

"Trustful of the image, reflects not what's inside. Deceit attains dominion, and leaves its victim blind."

Those who rely on the authority of another are often removed from consideration. They are hopelessly unaware of the terrifying truths and surreptitious plots that transform beyond their comprehension. Yet, they were blinded by the hope of a brighter future – of happier prospects.

Was the final characteristic 'cunning?'

Link shifted to the around the perimeter like a dog on a trail, blood throbbing in his veins. He blew again and again over untested mirrors in earnest. The words appear before him as if out of a fog.

"An illusion and a falsehood, at last you've come to see. Yet hope has long departed; the soul no longer free."

The hero paused, watching the mist fade away.

"The soul no longer free…" he considered. The _others_ had come to Afentis in search for a prospect of change. Yet after following a lie, their expectations were not met. All that had transpired was the loss of their free spirit. It was the reason why Link could barely sense their presence.

They were no longer autonomous. Was 'supremacy' the answer to the riddle?

Backing away, the boy moved along. With the number of panes dwindling, the lyric to come was to be the final piece of the riddle. After its discovery, the human did not know what would become of him.

Standing tall before the wall, Link hesitated. Yet what was he waiting for? Did he sincerely want to see the truth behind the demon realm's painted face? Could he handle the unveiled image of evil?

Yes. The hero needed to know the meaning of this forsaken realm.

Succumbing in to his misgivings, the hero leaned toward the mirror. Breathing like he was deep in sleep, the last stanza was revealed.

"Bound by fear and anguish, relinquished all control," Link spoke slowly. "No longer your own master, obeys another's hold."

The trial was unleashed.

The mood within the chamber changed. Bitter air gripped his shoulders, sliding down his back like fingernails. The hair on his arms stood on end, goose bumps spreading over his entire form. Most peculiar of all was his reflection in the mirror. Placing his free hand flat upon the pane, Link peered closely at himself.

His young face and wide eyes stared back at him, but Link did not see the haggard frame he had seen in the maze. His expression was vibrant and joyous, his smile wide and endearing. His eyes glimmered with vigor and enthusiasm, crinkled at the corners from years of elation. His raiment was clean, a perfect fit for the knight he had become. It was an unspoiled representation of what life could be.

The boy could hardly believe his eyes.

But, this was not right – was it? Though the image was overcome with adulation – how the boy longed to be; warning clutched at his insides. Yet, so did yearning. Link could hardly pull himself away. It was a future he longed for; the future he had expected.

Before the Goddess's calling.

"How...?" Link whispered, his reflection maintaining its pleasant expression. His heart cried out for fulfillment of this beautiful fantasy.

"This is what you want," the hero's reflection replied. "What you've always hoped for – isn't it?"

The human's countenance softened. His longing for contentment was mirrored before him; as tangible as the ground beneath his feet. Link wanted to feel that elation – to have harrowing discontentment replaced by bliss. What more could anyone wish for? But this happiness would not only be extended to him, but to those he loves. This copy of the youth was proclaiming it to be possible.

"Isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Link replied solemnly, "It's all I've hoped for."

The reflection placed a gentle hand to its chest – over its heart.

"To be free from darkness."

"Yes…" Link sighed, "And…"

"For those you care about to know the same fortune."

The boy's chest swelled. To bring gladness to others was his purpose. His own satisfaction would follow behind. And yet, what was this coldness that enveloped him?

"You know what you want. All of it stands in front of you. All you have to do is take it."

Stepping back, the reflected hero opened his arms. Beyond him, the faces of the hero's friends gazed forward. Both humans and other races alike, every face was adorned in gladness. Link's hands trembled; overcome.

"Join us," the multitudes urged. "Join us."

And yet…the faces were cold; hollow. Their good cheer was not genuine.

Link's heart could hardly contain the flooding of human emotion. His heart throbbed, encouraging him to follow. But the encouragement was not from a place of light. It arose from the pit of shadow. From the Nandu's venom.

"But, this isn't right…" Link whispered.

The mirrored hero's smile never faltered.

"What isn't right?"

"Everything…"

"How can't it be? Everything you want is in front of you. You can see it."

What the human was seeing was untrue. It was a trick of the eye; a lie. But it was a lie his heart was willing to believe. Forgo the trials that lie ahead and seek after happiness.

"Join us, and you'll be free."

The chill engulfed him. It was sorrow, loneliness, and fear.

Living in fallacy never was happiness. Or was it?

"Be free…"

A shadow loomed behind the reflected youth. A dark and shapeless mass, its gloomy influence bubbled forth. It wrapped around the boy's friends, smoky vines entangling their arms and legs. It drew them into the dark. All the while, the replicated blonde smiled.

"This is what you want…"

"Wh-where are they going?!" Link cried. His loved ones were being stolen away. He was enduring the torture of losing Zelda once more.

"N-no!" Link yelled, his heart tightening in his chest.

The darkness expanded quickly. The mirrored Link let its arms fall to his sides. Turning away, he walked into the deepening murkiness. The real human pounded on the glass, his heart begging the reflection to remain.

"Come back!"

Turning round, the reflection glanced at the desperate boy. But it was not his own face Link saw. Its lips smirked devilishly, its skin as white as a ghost's. It was Ghirahim.

"An illusion and a falsehood, at last you've come to see…the soul no longer free," the false demon hummed. "What a foolish little bird you are, my sky-child…"

"What do you mean!?" Link yelled at the demon. "Answer me!"

At last, the dark consumed the imitation of the Demon Lord. But something worse had been left in its place.

Link could feel the presence of a physical being hover above him. A deep throated growl shot over the human's shoulder. Swinging his body to the front, Link pressed his back against the glass.

Nothing was there. Was the shadow only an illusion?

Instantly, the human felt an invisible force encircle his neck. It tightened like a noose, restricting the intake of air. Dropping his sword, the human grappled at his throat to no avail. He could not see the source of the assault.

What was happening?

Slowly, his feet began to lift from the floor. Higher and higher he was raised, his body pinned between the mirror and the unseen entity. Link gasped helplessly, panic trickling into his mind. It was then that the human perceived the multiple reflections around him.

What he saw a monster.

The creature stood nearly eight feet in height, its legs and arms still only vague shapes of ash and smoke. Though the human could not see its face, the head was a gourd supported by a neck as strong as iron. Ebony skin stretched across its back, mutilated from years of violence and abuse. The blonde could only see his legs dangle from behind the beast.

The being continued to squeeze.

Kicking violently, the human struggled to free himself from the monster's grasp. He flailed his legs whichever direction they would go, often slamming them against the wall behind. Link could hear the beast snicker.

With one final kick, Link threw his left leg forward. It passed through empty air, striking nothing. However, upon its return motion the youth's foot collided with the mirror like a nail being hammered. Link's heel sent violent cracks over the cold surface.

The monster unleashed scorned cries, the anger echoing in the boy's ears. Link's accoster released its hold, a searing mark left upon the youth's flesh. Tumbling to the floor, air flooded the human's lungs, his legs crumpling like an accordion. He could not feel his arms as he fumbled hapless for his weapon.

The creature howled.

Jerking his head up, Link's eyes widened. At last, the face of the human's adversary was revealed in every pane.

Whatever it was, it no longer appeared demon or human-like. Its face was cruelly disfigured, its crooked jaw hanging loosely beneath its snout-like nose. Its eyes raged in its hollow sockets. The tendons of its neck bulged beneath the skin, connecting to an exceedingly muscular torso. A flicker of violet streaked across its chest.

From the reflection, the boy could see his crumbled body between the monster's still materializing legs. Link's body froze, unable to root himself from his precarious position.

With one swipe of its cumbersome arm, the beast in the mirror launched itself at the boy. But the attack was only visible on the glass. With his gift of agility the blonde darted to the right; a blind maneuver. His blade dragged across the floor, scratching the flawless stone. Landing on his front as flat as a plane of wood, the hero scrambled to his feet. He raised his sword high. He knew it would do little to defend him. He cast his eyes every which way.

The beast was to his right.

To his left.

Link saw his adversary reflected in every mirror, his own figure insignificant in comparison. Once more, the glint of violet the youth had seen was brighter and more apparent. A jewel dangled from the monster's neck, crafted into an equilateral triangle.

The final piece of the inverted Triforce. This atrocious being was the owner of the gem. The human would have to remove the stone from its vicious keeper to claim it for himself. How?

The riddle. The riddle held the only answer.

The images moved like a blur; a cyclone of blackened smoke. Link could barely see the green of his tunic through the shadows. His eyes searched desperately, looking for any sign as to the creature's location. Was it to his front?

Was it behind him?

The beast yowled in fury, it's guttural voice shaking the walls. Link cringed at the horrendous volume, the noise coming from every direction. The enemy's arms had fully developed, drifts of smoke curling around its muscles. The fingers of its hands were grotesquely bent, grisly claws protruding from the tips.

The replications of the invisible beast strode around with immense force, preparing to leap upon the human and tear him limb from limb. The gem swung around its neck like a pendulum. Link dodged impulsively, his back arching like a bow. His head swiveled out of the way, his neck swaying like a branch.

The hero still did not know where his attacker stood.

Dragging across the boy's face, the beast's imperceptible claws shredded the exposed skin. Link let out a tremendous exclamation, clutching his hand to the burning wound. His blood pooled in his hand, hot and thick. The liquid dripped down his wrist as he stumbled backward.

'An illusion and a falsehood is what you've come to see…'

What the human was seeing in the panes of glass was indeed a deception. He could not behold the true beast that threatened his life. It was a distraction only. Even before this moment, Link had fallen into the same place – gazing at incorrect answers strewn before him. He could not distinguish the verisimilitude.

"Deception?" Link inquired aloud.

The beast cackled. The blonde backed up helplessly, his defensive action unhelpful.

The monster grappled onto the human's tunic beneath the neck. Link felt the strength in the beast's hold. Tossing him as if he were a twig, the assailant flung the human across the room. Silvery light blinded Link as his back collided into the opposite wall, his head thrown reward like the recoil of a whip. The rupturing glass penetrated the human's skin, splinters tearing through his scalp. The human slid to his knees, blood oozing down his neck.

The creature also howled in pain. But Link had done nothing to inflict harm.

He couldn't have.

Dread and hysteria exploded in Link's chest, blossoming like a poisonous flower. He was faltering. He was burdened with a load that no ordinary human could carry. This unseen being, this hateful creature was could not be challenged.

Link was useless.

His misery, self-loathing, and anguish bound his courageous spirit. It stifled the light that sought frantically to pierce through the blackness. His hope was mislaid.

He was becoming like the _others,_ 'bound by fear and anguish,' having surrendered control.

_Control._ Power was sought after for control. It was clear that Link was not in possession of control.

The hero's vision faded in and out. He no longer fumbled for his weapon. What purpose was there to defend against the inevitable defeat? He was failing his duty. He was failing Hylia.

Again, Link was involuntarily moved. He was thrown with little regard for the damage he would acquire. Link could barely sense where he was tossed; whether he was cast up or down. All he could see was the glint of silvery light; the massive hulk that was his foe. He was trapped in a kaleidoscope of terror.

He struck the ramparts, the glass cracking like dried clay. The shards ripped through the fabric of his shoulder as he sank to the floor. His vision was cloudy; he could barely see the floor that stretched out in front of him.

Link opened his mouth. A sibilate scarcely escaping. "No longer your own master…obeys another's hold…"

Perhaps he should have given up before he had discovered his inability. But that was not Link's way.

No. He would find until the end. He still had to fight. He still had the riddle to solve.

What kind of power was being displayed; what kind of control? It was not brute strength . It was beneath the surface instead.. Just as the riddle foretold, the intended use of power was not accurately reflected. Just like the shadowy monster, he could not see the truth beyond what he witnessed in the mirrors.

The mirrors.

That was the cause for the creature's wailing and the human's struggle. When the mirror was damaged, the beast was injured too. If the panes of glass were destroyed, perhaps the monster would cease its attacks. And what about the amethyst? Would the last prize be affected negatively? Link did not know.

His upper arm was crushed in a vice grip.

But the human could not break the mirrors by sheer force alone. With the injuries he currently sustained, he could not utilize even a portion of his strength. He would surely bring himself to death if he were to attempt.

Also, there was the chance that Link's assumption was false. Would it be worth risking his physical well-being on a conjecture? He was terrified even to try.

But if he solved the riddle, and spoke it aloud…

Link was thrown to the floor, his body sliding to the center of the room. Through hooded eyes he could make out his broken body in the folding glass above him. The ruthless beast loomed above.

Link was manipulated not only physically, but emotionally as well. Fear, anguish; loss and confusion had tied his hands and his spirit.

He was being manipulated absolutely.

Force was placed upon the blonde's chest. It pushed upon him like bricks; layer after layer. The beast was crushing Link's ribs; slowly and savagely. Once the blonde's bony cage was broken, all that was protected would be at the creature's mercy. There was little Link could do but remain motionless; helpless. He opened his mouth to scream, but his voice would not come. Even his will to speak was manipulated.

_Manipulation._ The twin of power was manipulation.

It was manipulation that could lead the masses blindly to death. It was a sneaking power, slinking into the minds of the feeble. It would entangle about hopes and dreams; maintain control through fear and a plethora of other weaknesses. It was sinister and egotistical. It was the final piece of the triangular puzzle.

But Link could not speak the word for his salvation.

Greater became the pressure exerted upon the human's chest. The monster roared with laughter, relishing in the delicious distress.

All the youth had to do was speak.

Speak!

Tears washed down his face, stinging his eyes in cruelty. He had discovered the dark face of the demon realm, and yet courage had flared too late. The knowledge would go unused; unheard.

Parting his lips, the hero curled his mouth around the silent syllables. He mouthed every sound, but it was as if he were speaking through a sealed mouth.

"Ma…" Link's lips curved. "…ni…"

It was nearly over. The beast's booming laughter would be the last thing he would hear.

"pu...la…"

Crimson dripped from the corner of the hero's mouth. It was over.

"…tion."

The room exploded.

The being's shriek was a frightening sound. It sung of indignation and of catastrophe.

Every mirrored surface shattered with ear splintering din, the ceiling raining down upon the room like frigid sleet. The pieces were endless, glimmering like diamonds. But the human had no protection from the pouring glass.

Link flung his arms across his face, shielding the most valuable part of his body. He awaited his expiration, the falling particles tinkling like chimes.

**Author's Note:** And there you have it, chapter 13! I hope you liked it, and I am so so SO sorry for being an absolute failure in timing. School and work have demanded all of my time, beating me with exams and the like. But I will honestly keep working on the story when I get a moment. Do not lose faith in me…I'm not a perfect writer, but I am trying very hard! So please leave me a review! Also, this chapter is brought to you by "The 50 Darkest Pieces of Classical Music," of which was a major inspirational force.


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